Twelve Days of I-Man Christmas
by Cairis Rin
Summary: For the Agency, the 12 Days of Christmas will never be the same! What can I say, it's a Christmas fic! It's just taking me a while to finish it...;)
1. First Day of Christmas

Title: 12 Days of I-man Christmas  
Author: CairisRin  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I don't own em, but I sure do love em! :D  
Thanks be to Allianora2 who inspired me to write again! :)

On the First Day of Christmas, my I-Man gave to me…

Darien Fawkes looked out the window with a small sigh. A soft wind played upon the leaves of the trees, a touch of brown at their edges, but for the most part it looked like any other day in San Diego. It sure didn't feel like it.

"Shouldn't there at least be snow…or something?" Darien murmured forlornly to his empty apartment. The morning had started out peaceful enough, even the streets remained quiet today, maybe that was what was troubling him so, it was too quiet. But no, that was just a lie, just an excuse he would rather believe in than the truth. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Turning away from the window, Darien took another glance around the desolate apartment. A foot high potted pine stood covered with silvery lint on the kitchen counter. A real tree instead of some plastic representative. His way of paying homage to the lies he told Casey he guessed.

"And what are you going to do with it when Christmas is over? Putting it out on the curb with all the other chucked pieces of wood defeats its purpose, my friend!"

Hobbes hadn't been too ecstatic when he discovered Darien had gotten a real tree, maybe it was because he was Jewish, or maybe his paranoid partner had simply worked for Fish and Game too long, but in any case, he had a point. Darien didn't have a clue what to do with it come tomorrow. Still, that was tomorrow, and today was Christmas. 

Christmas day. 

Darien shuffled into the kitchen, idly picking up the newest edition to his kitchen. It was a gift from Hobbes, actually Hobbes had given Darien quite a few trinkets a couple weeks ago, but this was his favorite. It was an egg timer, the kind with the rooster that bobs its head until it strikes the bell at its feet. 

Gift exchanging had been an interesting experience this year, The Official had decreed they were to pull names out of a hat so they wouldn't have to buy more than one gift for one person, but everyone had gotten something for everyone else anyway, except The Official of course. Although, considering they'd been given the entire week off, Darien figured that was probably the best gift the Official could give.

From Claire he'd received a CD, and a CD player to listen to it on, Alex, hair gel and a gift certificate for a really nice spa, and from Eberts, one of those electronic handheld basket ball games. Darien had played it a few times, but he preferred the real thing. 

Admittedly it'd felt good to give things to his friends, he hadn't exchanged gifts with anyone for some time, almost felt like a new beginning. Almost. With a sigh he put the egg timer back on the counter and went in search of his ball.

"There's no sense in pitying yourself, Darien," he chastened himself, trying to quell the gloom of loneliness. It was his own fault he was alone on Christmas day, and knowing that somehow made it all feel worse.

When inquired about his 'plans for the holidays' he'd told everyone he was going to visit his aunt. Maybe he should have, or his grandmother, but in truth he hadn't feel like revisiting the past, and his memories of Kevin seemed persistently forefront in his mind lately. Not to mention it seemed everyone else was going somewhere already. Even Hobbes was taking the time to visit his sister, or so Darien guessed. Bobby wouldn't actually say past the word 'family' but from the way he'd been growing moodier with each coming day Darien didn't have much doubt which part of his 'family' is was. 

Still, just because he was on his own today didn't mean he couldn't have fun. Fishing out the basketball from the closet, Darien rolled it around his hand, the motion bringing a smile to his face, yes serrie, a little time with the hoop was just what he needed. 

Rolling it around his hand once more, the smile broadened and grabbing his jacket he left the confines of the apartment exclaiming under his breath, "I'm the man!" Yet upon reflection, the words didn't sound as convincing as he'd like. 

Arnaud De Fohn grumbled a few choice comments as he trod up the steps of the towering office building, getting so far as trying the locked door before he took note of the paper posted in front of him. 

"Closed for Christmas!" He exclaimed and just for spite tried the door again. It didn't budge. Cursing vividly, he took note of the 'for emergencies' number at the bottom of the sheet and walking back down the stone steps grumbled, "Never thought an organization bent on world domination would take the holidays off!"

Finding the nearest phone booth he dialed the number, but instead of getting Stark, or even some dispatch operator he got a recording, "This call can not be completed as dialed, please deposit more money or try your call again."

Frowning, Arnaud looked at the payphone machine. "Fifty cents!!" Feeling quite put out, he dug through his pocket for more change popping it into the little slot with angry flicks of his finger. 

"I want to talk to Jared Stark." He stated as soon as someone answered the other end. 

"What do you- Jared Stark, you know, Mr. Know It All of Chrysalis!

"Of coarse there's such a thing as Chrysalis, I'm one of their employees, you moron!

"Employee ID? Just tell him it's Arnaud, Arnaud De Fohn." Arnaud paused, his scowl deepening with every second.

"Yes I know I'm in a phone booth," He spit into the phone. "The stupid phone they gave me broke." He paused again, then full out yell, "No, I'm not lying! It broke on it's own! What kind of imbecile are you, just get me Stark!

"No I will not call ba- Hello? Merde!" 

The wind brushed softly at Darien's hair as he meandered down the empty streets. The ball was tossed from hand to hand and a careless rendition of the 12 Days of Christmas emitted slowly between pursed lips as he walked. 

He'd been intent upon the court, but once outside realized he was enjoying the walking much more and so had traveled wherever his feet had cared to take him. It was upon this casual stroll that he noticed the man angrily pounding at the phone in the booth a block down.

"Man, and I thought I had it bad!" Darien murmured, pausing for a minute to observe the frustrated antics. The hairs on the back of his neck rose with an instinctual anxiety, but Darien just shook it off and moved on. 

Still, he couldn't suppress the shiver that racked his body despite the San Diego heat, or the haunting thoughts of the beast that resided within him.

…Arnaud in a Telephone Booth


	2. Second Day of Christmas

On the Second Day of Christmas, my I-Man gave to me…

Darien ran his key card through the slot, wincing slightly from that simple motion. The idea of playing solo basketball the day before had come back to bite him, literally. Thanks to a cement court he now sported a few new scratches and a couple of jammed fingers. 

Rubbing them, he stepped gingerly into the neon lit Keep. "Claire? Lab Rat here for his shot!" Only the bubbles in the fish tank responded. "Keeper?"

Flipping the light switch he walked further, alarmed to find the Keeper absent. Like an automatic reaction, he checked the nearly filled snake tattoo, and the watch on top of it. He wasn't late, and he wasn't early, for once, he was right on time, but where was Claire? Turning around he was about head for The Official's office, but stopped a foot from the door. "Come on, Man, you're being paranoid!" Running his hand through his hair Darien did a one eighty and quickly found residence on the requisitioned dentist chair to wait. 

He ended up waiting nearly half an hour. 

When the metal door slid open and the Keeper entered, Darien started from the chair only to stop short. "Claire-"

"Sorry I'm late Darien, it's been a busy morning" Claire interrupted, moving quickly to the fridge for the counteragent. Darien sat motionless, a look of perplexity and disbelief etched across his face. The Keeper barely seemed to notice as she hurriedly prepped his arm for the shot. She was dressed in jeans, high-top running shoes, a shirt, a sweater, and a thick jacket with heavy gloves hanging from the pocket. Five times too warm for San Diego and completely unClaire like.

"Going somewhere?" Darien asked wincing slightly from the pinch of the needle, it certainly wasn't as smooth a shot as it usually was. 

"Um um." Claire looked at him then, hesitantly meeting his soft brown eyes. "My friend's taking me skiing."

"Oh, up north?" Darien asked trying to sound casual while fighting desperately with the renewed bout of loneliness.

"Well, in Utah." She said then, grinned at his startled reaction, and let out a small insanely girlish giggle, adding, "He's flying us there in an hour." Suddenly all traces of her uncharacteristic glee vanished as she acutely noted the scratches on his arm. "Darien? What happened? Are you all right?"

"Ya, ya. It's no biggie." He brushed it off, instantly feeling guilty for replacing her look of bliss with one of worry. He feigned a smile, pushing at her gently as he rose from the chair. "Go, it's nothing, you have a plane to catch!"

"Well, if you're sure," she replied still doubtful, but soon the smile was returning and the look of excitement in her eyes was enough to warm Darien's own feelings. "I'll see you in a few days, Darien," She exuberantly proclaimed, and suddenly embraced him in a tight hug, murmuring, "Be good!" in his ear.

All too soon she was gone without another question towards his well being, or his weekend, his supposed visit to his aunt, or otherwise. Once again alone with the other lab animals, Darien sighed. 

He was making his way back through the halls of The Agency when he heard the deep-throated voice of The Official reverberating down the empty hallways. Darien slowed, surprised to find his boss at work, and obviously his usual roaring self. 

A small smirk curled at Darien's lips and he was tempted to go saran wrap to find out what The Official was yelling about this time, but the fear of getting caught and being put to work despite having the week off was stronger. On soft feet he made a quick escape. 

Or almost. Darien rounded the corner not expecting anyone to be on the other side and ran straight into a woman who nearly lost her grip on the large stack of files she was carrying. 

"Oh, sorry!" Darien quickly apologized then, suddenly grinned. "Hi, I don't think I know you, my name's Darien."

"Rena," she quickly answered returning a hesitant smile but refusing to look up at him. She made to continue on around him, but he stopped her with a small frown.

Darien wasn't sure what was up, but the feeling of familiarity was growing on him. "Hey, do I know you?"

"I don't think so," She replied her soft French accent showing through as she flashed him a full smile this time. "I'm just here as a temp, for the holidays."

"Oh, okay." Darien watched her continue down the hall, obviously heading to The Official's office. Not a place he'd like to follow and so shaking off the peculiar feeling, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and moseyed on out of the building.

"I'm sure the appointment with the Senator can be rescheduled for tomorrow, today being Boxing Day after all-" A man of medium build and similar speech to Rena continued as he held a day planner in hand and went down the list.

"Shut up Pierre!" The Official snapped, pointedly turning from the man to gaze out the window of his office.

"Excuse me?" Pierre questioned genuinely startled. 

The Official scowled and grumbled out several unintelligible words before he sighed and replied. "Just wait. I'm thinking!"

"Oh, sorry, sir," Pierre replied, but unlike Eberts who would stand patiently still, Pierre leaned against the edge of the desk, still flipping through the book in his hand, making the occasional mark and murmur under his breath.

Fighting the urge to kick the newly acquired and thankfully temporary assistant from his office, The Official finally calmed enough to answer, "No, I'll visit with the Senator and find out what he wants." Anything to get away from Pierre! Oh why oh why did I give Eberts the week off! The Official thought gloomily.

He was about to turn away from the window but an odd sight caught his attention. A scruffy looking man was in the phone booth down the street. Normally, this back alley remained empty, but since the man wasn't looking towards their building The Official paid it no more mind.

Down the alley, Arnaud impatiently tapped on the phone box waiting for the connection to go through. With substantial more control this time he's been able to convince the dispatcher he was who he was and was finally being forwarded to Stark.

"Hello, Arnaud, what can I do for you?" Jared Stark answered, his smooth voice coming through as sickenly calm as usual.

Arnaud wasted no time in demanding, "Where were you yesterday?"

The Swiss-German could practically see the scowl forming on the office man's face. "I was out. What is it?"

"Oh, nothing much," Arnaud replied acidly, "I noticed a couple of old friends from Quebec were in town and thought you might like to know."

"Why would I care about a couple Canadians?" Stark retorted even more annoyed now for being disturbed.

Smirking, Arnaud told him, "These two are some of FQM's best, and word is the FQM have been dealing a lot lately in some pretty high tech experiments. Some of which were rumored to be involved with Chrysalis I do believe, although I don't know how."

The line was quiet for a moment, then Stark questioned in a low voice, "Do you know where they are now?"

"Yes, in fact, I do." A sour expression creased Arnaud's face as he turned to look up at the building. "Interesting enough, I trailed them to The Agency."

"The Agency? Don't you think it's a bit unwise for you to be there right now?" 

"Oh don't worry about me, Stark!" Arnaud sarcastically bit out then hung up. Still regarding his 'mortal enemy's place of occupation, he gingerly felt the thin mask that turned him into a stranger. Scowling deeply, he left. He'd find out what the Free Quebec Militia's interest was in the Agency, and then he'd use it for himself!

…Two Foreign Spies  
And Arnaud in a Telephone Booth


	3. Third Day of Christmas

On the Third Day of Christmas my I-Man gave to me…

Darien slipped around the corner of the Agency hallways like some thief on the prowl, which wasn't so improbable. He couldn't believe he came back here again. After hearing The Official roaring like a boar yesterday, Darien couldn't hear a squeak from him today and that was making him nervous, for he was sure if The Official caught him here on his day off, Darien would quickly find himself with a stack of paperwork to do. 

Why 'am' I here? The ex-thief sarcastically thought to himself, quickly rejecting the immediate response of, life, and him needing one, to the uneasy feeling that hadn't left him since he'd run into the holiday help the day before. He'd swear he knew her from somewhere, he just couldn't think of where. It'd been racking his mind so bad he had come in today in the hopes of figuring it out. Maybe if he just saw her one more time. 

"Whoa! Darien! What are you doing here?" Eberts exclaimed also 'sneaking' around the corners and barely missed a near collision.

"Ah, Eberts. Ya, hi." Darien said, nervously trying to think up a good excuse, but then he suddenly realized Eberts wasn't in his usual business suit and looked as guilty as Darien felt. "What about yourself?" Darien turned the question on the man, giving him his best interrogation look, something he'd picked up from Hobbes. "What are you doing here, _Ebes_?"

"Well, I," Eberts floundered, then sighed and told the tall man, "If you must know, I heard that the temporary help is making a complete disarray of everything in the file room, I'd thought I'd get a head start in fixing it before it get out of hand." Then he leaned in closer to Darien and murmured, "But if you could keep my presence here quiet it'd be greatly appreciated. I don't want The Official to think I don't trust him." Eberts stated quite seriously.

Darien nodded his head in agreement, easily reading between the lines. If The Official thought they'd come in on their days off without being told, he'd be liable to never give them another day off again! "Ya, ya man, no problem." He clapped Eberts on the arm bringing a smile to his shorter friend's face. Then Darien's thoughts went back to the girl. "The Temp, uh? You know I got the weirdest vibe yesterday, from that girl Rena."

"Rena and Pierre Labec were both brought in for the week." Eberts told him as they started back down the hall towards the file room. He was about to continue but movement caught Darien's attention and he put a hand on Eberts to stop him. They both slipped back inside an open doorway and peered around the frame to see what was happening.

At the end of the hall they could see Pierre and Rene exiting the file room, a small stack of files in Rena's hands while Pierre was bent over talking too low for the two onlookers to hear.

Ducking back, Darien and Eberts watched with apprehension as the two temps continued by. Then Pierre looked up and seeing the two together Darien suddenly knew exactly where he'd seen them before. They were the two Canadian Terrorists that had tried to kill him and Hobbes back in Mexico! "Hey, wait!" Darien called out amidst Eberts' startled exclamation as the ex-thief suddenly bounded out of hiding and straight into the hall. "Stop!"

Pierre and Rena turned, but apparently they knew about him as well and immediately took off running, Rena going so far as to throw the files at him in a vain attempt to slow him down. The two foreign spies left the building with Darien in hot pursuit, but as they skidded down the steps a black car came racing up to meet them and the two practically dove in, leaving Darien in the car's dust as it sped away. 

"Great! Just great!" Darien growled out walking back up the steps defeated. He knew that anytime someone broke into The Agency, more often than not it was going to involve the gland, which when interpreted meant his life was in danger, again. Reaching for the door, something caught the corner of his eye causing him to pause. For a second he thought he saw Eberts rounding the corner of the building, but no, he was probably just waiting inside. Darien pulled the door open, then stopped again. A shiver was dancing on his spine and it was still hot out. Hadn't Hobbes told him often enough 'It's better to trust your instincts than all the money in the world?' 

Letting the door fall closed again, Darien jogged slowly to the corner of the building. Down the street he could see Eberts in the phone booth, which, right there was dramatically out of place. Why didn't he just use the phone in The Official's office, or his cell phone?

Frowning deeply with confusion Darien walked the rest of the way down the back alley. Eberts had his back to Darien and seemed completely engrossed in his conversation so he didn't even notice the tall agent until Darien tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

Jumping a foot into the air, Eberts spun around swearing in reaction.

"Ebe-Arnoud!" Darien exclaimed realization dawning instantly. On instinct, Darien reached out and ripped off the mask of his friend and coworker to reveal the invisible face beneath.

"Hello Darien," the once again accented voice responded, and taking full advantage of Darien's momentary pause, Arnaud kneed Darien as hard as he could then bolted from the confines of the telephone booth. 

Grunting, but not swayed, Darien ran after the Swiss-German, confident he'd overtake the shorter man. Yet, like déjà vu, a black car come screeching around the corner to which Arnaud dove into, yelling to the driver, "Drive! Drive, you idiot! Drive!"

Darien grabbed at the door, rage creasing his face as he pounded relentless at anything he could in his attempt to get inside to the man that had cause him so much misery. Broken glass cut at his already injured hand but the window didn't shatter and all too soon the vehicle was pulling speedily away.

Darien swore. "What is this, get-away cars in abundance day?!" Frustrated and angry he slowly made his way back to the Agency. There was no hope of a continued vacation now.

Hours later found Darien in The Official's office with The Official, himself and the real Eberts inside, although the man still wasn't in familiar attire. 

"Rena and Pierre Lebec. You were right Darien, they work for the Free Quebec Militia." Eberts stated slipping through a small file in hand with a frown. An odd look for a man wearing a Disneyland shirt and Mickey Mouse ears. 

"How did they get past screening?!" The Official demanded

Eberts shook his head. "I can't say, sir. It's my fault, I should have done a more detailed back ground check, I compl-"

"Shut up Eberts!" The Official barked. Eberts instantly went quiet.

After a moment of continued silence Darien looked up from his bandaged hand in curiostiy. Eberts was regarding his boss with a raised eyebrow, and if Darien didn't know better he'd say The Official had a look of complete bliss on his face. At last the Fat Man spoke. "It doesn't matter how they got in, what matters is what they wanted, and how Arnaud's involved in all this."

Eberts began to speak, stopped then began again. "I'm not sure about Arnaud, but when I got here I checked the backups. Seeing as how they'd need a key card to get into the Keep, the best alternative would be to find the backups and steal the information that way." Eberts eyebrows came together with a look of regret. "There are three disks missing."

"Missing?" Darien questioned, the alarm rising that little bit more. 

"What was on them?" The Official asked.

"Some partial information about the gland and parts of our last medical check ups."

"Partial?"

Eberts shyly grinned, "I never keep all the information in one spot, just in case, well, of something like this."

The Official chortled with laughter, "haha, good work Eberts!" Then he turned completely serious again. "Still, even partial information is more than I want out there. Darien, I want you to find any leads you can on these two spies and get those disks back!"

"Me?!" Darien asked startled. He was used to the spy, steal, and get slaughtered routine, but despite following Hobbes around for the last year and a half, he still had no clue how Hobbes Net really worked! "What about the others?" He asked feeling a bit frantic.

"Unfortunately, we're having trouble locating them." Eberts replied. "Alex we know is out of the country, and we're pretty sure Hobbes is in, ah…" He frowned at the paper. "It's north of Ridgecrest. We haven't been able to locate The Keeper as yet."

"She's in Utah," Darien glumly told them. Both men's eyebrows shot up in question. Sighing heavily, Darien got to his feet stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. "Well, I guess I better get started."

"I want a report by the end of the day!" The Official roared before Darien made it out the door. Yet all Darien could think was that it'd be the shortest report he'd ever do. 

He didn't have even the slightest inkling where to start looking.

…Three Missing Disks   
Two Foreign Spies  
And Arnaud in a Telephone Booth


	4. Fourth Day of Christmas

New Important Disclaimer: Okay, first off, I mean absolutely no disrespect to any native or foreign spies, peoples, Quebec Que, etc. I'm not native to the States myself. ;) Secondly, I've never been to Ridgecrest, so I really can't confirm what's it's like there...I was just using my creative license as an armature writer to plead ignorance! Thirdly, as far as I know, we only know Hobbes 'has or had' a younger sister, the creation of his family is purely for this story alone and is non-cannon. Plus, the names I picked, I don't know if anyone else had done the same thing, they were just the first ones to pop into my head.;) 

On the Fourth Day of Christmas my I-Man gave to me…

Yesterday had been one of the longest days Darien had ever had. For most of it he'd wandered around town feeling lost. He'd checked with his old contacts, but they were thieves, none of them knew anything about the Free Quebec Militia. 

Thankfully Eberts had managed to uncover some things and discovered a small front for the FQM. "You're in luck Darien, it's in Ridgecrest, so you can make contact with Hobbes while you're there." Darien was more than relieved to hear that and was now making his way up north on a fresh new day. 

He'd driven right through Ridgecrest without even realizing it, but that was fine, the address Eberts had given him was quite a ways outside of town anyway.

The further north he went, the colder it got, till, quite suddenly, Darien realized there was a couple feet of snow cleared off on the banks. Checking for the correct mile marker, Darien pulled off the highway and quickly found himself submerged in the fluffy white stuff. 

"At least it snowed somewhere for Christmas," he grumbled to himself and flicked the heater higher. The road he followed seemed to wind its way into the middle of no where, Darien wasn't even sure if he was following a road anymore, but his car wasn't capable of traveling outside the two rivets already in the snow so he just hoped for the best and kept going.

Eventually, Darien came to a turn off with a mailbox with the number he was looking for. Grudgingly the car inched its way up the driveway and Darien stepped out into a foot of packed snow.

He wasn't sure what he'd say when he knocked on the door, but was gratefully spared from coming up with something as the door opened and a short man stepped out into the snow. He was dressed head to toe in snow clothes, from thick black snow boots with the fur lining sticking out the top to the red knit hat pulled down over his ears with it's loose top and pompom hanging off the back. A likewise dark red scarf was wrapped snuggly around him covering half his face as its ends hung out over the puffy collar of the bright blue jacket that seemed twice the size of the man itself. As a final touch, thick red mittens covered the hands of the man's arms that were having trouble hanging over the thickness of the jacket and what ever was underneath. He reminded Darien so much of the little kid from 'A Christmas Carol' that it was hard not to laugh.

"Fawkes?! What are you doing here!" A familiar voice demanded from underneath the tightly worn scarf.

"Hobbes?" Darien asked incredulous, and finally just burst out with laughter.

"Ya ya," Hobbes grumbled, then stated, "You didn't answer my question!"

Darien's face was still covered with mirth as he walked up to his partner and experimentally patted his arm, most of it was the jacket. "Man! Buddy! What are you wearing? I didn't even recognize you!"

Bobby grumbled something too quite to hear then said a bit more placated, "They're gifts from my sister. She insisted I try them on, so I figured, why not put it all on at once, get it done and over with, ya know?"

"Makes sense, makes sense, sure," Darien agreed, still smiling. 

"So what's going on partner?" Bobby questioned, fixing Darien with two shrewd eyes, the only thing visible, really. Then all at once Bobby asked, perhaps a bit too eagerly, "Is there an emergency? Do I have to come back to San Diego?"

"Ah, not exactly," Darien replied, curious and humored by Bobby's anxious nature all at the same time. He explained what all had occurred with the missing disks, the spies and his odd encounter with Arnaud while they stood outside in the snow. Darien would have liked to go inside to talk, he didn't have anywhere near the padding Bobby did, but Hobbes wasn't even inching in that direction.

"The FQM, uh? Haven't heard much from their direction for quite some time, they've been staying pretty low now for some time. Not so unusual for Canadians, can't predict them, one minute they're as passive as a badger, and the next they're biting your hand off!"

"Hobbes, I don't think badger's are passive."

"Sure they are," Hobbes argued. "I had a cousin who had a pet badger, sweetest little guy you ever meet!"

"Ah, ya." Darien wanted to say he didn't think badgers were little, either, but let it lie. "Well, Eberts says they've got a front in Ridgecrest, we might be able to find out more there."

"Sure, Old Pete at the Coffeemart," Hobbes stated knowledgably.

Darien was surprised, "You know him?"

"Of coarse I know him!" Hobbes retorted sounding a little insulted but continued, "He makes the best cruller you've ever tasted! Wait till you have one Fawkes, they're-" Two brown eyes narrowly regarded his tall partner. "Then again, let's just stake out the place."

"What ever you think is best," Darien replied, just happy to be with his partner again. He turned towards the car to get going but Bobby called him back.

"Hold up Fawkes, we can't go just yet. Gotta tell Rachel something, and I came out here to find Jason before you showed up." Hobbes stated, rotating the upper half of his body to look around since he could barely move his head.

"Jason?" Darien questioned perplexed.

"Ya, he's my nephew," Bobby answered a bit gruffly.

Nephew? Darien suddenly realized up here in the mountains was a part of Bobby's life he knew nothing about. He took a step back towards his friend to help him look when something cold, large and wet landed smack dab in the center of his back with enough force that he almost quicksilvered in reaction.

"There he is!" Bobby simply announced. 

Darien spun around to see a young kid with a mop of dark mangy hair grinning at him as he took aim at Darien with another snowball inside a sling. Suddenly, Darien realized there was another reason for Hobbes snowsuit other than 'just trying them on.' "Hey!" He protested with a grin and ducked as the snowball was let loose. Unfortunately, Bobby was right behind Darien without the same maneuverability. 

Yet the wet snow just bounced off the thick jacket and Bobby yelled out, "Jase, come on, it's time to go in."

"Okay Gampa," The little boy, probably no older than seven, replied, happily bouncing towards them. "Who's this?" He asked craning his neck to look up at Darien.

"I'm not you're Grandpa! I'm your uncle!" Bobby stated with what was obviously a repeated argument.

"I'm a friend of your uncles, my name's Darien." Darien said in answer to the kid's question.

A perpetually smiling face gazed up at Darien as he happily stated, "Uncle Bobby!"

"No, I'm Darien."

"I'm your Uncle Bobby," Hobbes repeated a bit agitated.

The little boy looked at him and said, "Okay, Gampa." Bobby just sighed, and Jason giggled before bounding to the door, throwing it open and yelling heartily, "Mom! I'm home!"

Darien smirked, he had an idea the kid knew exactly who Bobby was and was just seeing how far he could push it. Bobby seemed to agree, for he chuckled, quite contrary to his previous behavior. "That kid's a smart one, Fawkes. He'd put you to shame!"

Jason's Mom immediately came to the foyer the second Jason told her about Bobby's new friend. "Who's this Robert? He's not a 'friend' from work, is he?" She asked narrowing her eyes at Darien so much that he wonder what kind of 'friends from work' had she met before. With dark hair to match her sons, it was curled into a knot around a pencil while her hands were planted firmly on her hips, small suds still clinging to the tops of her wrists. There was a sense of fire bred hotter from being burned about her. She was so obviously Hobbes' sister it was uncanny.

"No," Hobbes instantly replied drawing the word out, then stated matter of factly, "He's my partner, Darien Fawkes."

"Oh, well, in that case, welcome," she stated to Darien, although her voice didn't soften much and she didn't bother to offer a hand or introduction.

Bobby just continued, "Fawkes and I have to go into town, we'll be back late."

Her scowl instantly darkened. "Bobby, you promised!"

"This is important Rach," Bobby persisted.

Rachel just shook her head and growled out, "You never change."

Jason, unperturbed by the semi-hostile exchange tugged at his uncle's jacket. "Can I go?"

"Not this time kid," Bobby told him, ruffling the kid's hair as best he could with a mittened hand. Darien awkwardly waved goodbye to them as he and Bobby quickly left.

"So, that's your sister, uh?"

"Uh!"

Arnaud sat, quite frankly, naked, in the middle of a packed snow bank. It was one of the disadvantages of his gland compared to Fawkes. It took him forever to control his gland enough to quicksilver a small object, and even then it was finicky. Clothes were completely out of the question!  At least the cold wasn't an issue, only the snow that froze to him and fell in a shower of ice every time he moved. 

It made for hiding a tab bit more difficult, but after wearing his 'normal wear' into town, he quickly realized he'd get nothing done. For a town this size, everyone still knew everything about everyone else.

Patiently, Arnaud waited. Not too long later a familiar car pulled up and stopped and the dynamic duo he was waiting for appeared.

Bobby stepped out into the snow, having shed just about everything but the jacket, including a sweater or two. "Well, here we are partner, good ol'Ridgecrest!"

Darien could see the Coffeemart across the street, but Bobby pulled out a packed pillowcase he'd filled from the house and turned instead to the public laundry facility. Catching up to his partner, Darien leaned over and questioned, "I thought we were going to stake the place out?"

"We are, genius! You don't get away with just sitting around for no reason in this town, my friend. Trust me!" Bobby continued inside and greeted the man lounging on a stool with a paper in hand. "Hey Dan, how're the kids?"

"Angels, as always," Dan answered. He sounded sincere enough, but the way Bobby grinned Darien guessed it was some sort of inside joke. "How's Rachel? Still holding a grudge?"

"Of coarse."

"Don't worry Bobby, she'll get over it someday." Then Dan turned curious eyes up to Darien. "Who's your tall friend?"

"This beanpole, is Darien Fawkes, my partner from San Diego," Hobbes introduced then, proceeded to empty the contents of the pillowcase into a washing machine. 

Darien greeted and shook Dan's hand, but Dan surprised him by saying, "Oh, here on business are you? Old Pete?" 

Darien quickly looked to Bobby, but his partner wasn't in any way alarmed that Dan knew and easily answered, "Not sure, it's just a hunch."

Dan laughed, "You've been playing your hunches since we were kids!" Bobby just grinned in response.

Darien felt even more surprised and smiling with discovery asked, "This is were you grew up, Hobbes? I always took you for a city kid."

"I am," Bobby stated, then motioning to Dan with a soap box stated, "Dan here's with the CIA, knew him when I was with The Company."

"Right up until he was kicked out!" Dan said good-natured.

"Then, are you watching Old Pete, too?" Darien asked, feeling more and less confused by this new revelation.

"Among other things," Dan slyly stated, then seriously asked, "What's your interest in Pete Hobbes?"

Bobby shook his head, "Nope, sorry, that's a need to know, my friend. But I'll scratch your back if you'll scratch mine," Bobby said, closing the lid to the machine and popping in the quarters to turn it on before strolling over.

Smirking, Dan shook his head with silent mirth. "You never change, Hobbes. Alright. I've seen some people come through that could easily be FQM, but it's hard to tell."

"Always is," Bobby agreed.

"No one in the last week, but they always head north east. There's a large lot of private land in that direction, a large house set at the center of it. Could be them, don't know." Dan shrugged.

Hobbes pursed his lips in thought, then in return replied with a question, "Do you know about a man names Arnaud De Phone?"

"De Fohn," Darien automatically corrected.

Dan's expression grew severe, "He's on our hit list, why?"

"There's a chance he'll come here looking for a couple FQM. My boss wants to have a chat with Arnaud." Bobby told him. It wasn't exactly the truth, but it was more than enough to satisfy the CIA operative.

"I'll keep my eye out for him," Dan answered.

"Better keep two," Darien quipped, half serious. "He has a tendency to be invisible."

Dan nodded, not realizing Darien meant that literally.

Darien and Bobby hung out at the laundry room for a couple hours. Eventually, Dan left, waving goodbye and best wishes on their hunt. When Darien was sure they were alone he finally questioned Bobby, "Are you sure that was wise telling him so much?"

"Bobby Hobbes knows what he's doing, my friend!" Hobbes stated confidently. He was about to continue when another car pulled up next to the Coffeemart and the two foreign spies they were looking for stepped out.

"Hey, that's them!" Darien anxiously stated.

"Alright, time for you to go invisio, partner."

Darien suddenly realized the flaw in Hobbes' plan. "Ah, Hobbes, I can't."

"What?" Hobbes looked at his partner with alarm and worry. "What do you mean, you can't?"

"Well, The Keep's in Utah-"

"Utah?!"

"Ya, and she won't be back till later and it takes two days-"

Bobby cut Darien off again, with a growl. "You could have mentioned this earlier you know! Come on!" Pushing his partner ahead of him, the two ran out of the laundry facility and across the street to the Coffeemart.

Yet they barely entered the little store before they had to take cover behind a table as a spray of gunfire rang out to meet them. "Aren't you going to shoot back?" Darien quickly asked, ducking down further as bullets reamed the edges of the table.

"I don't have my gun," Hobbes told him.

"What?" Daren exclaimed with more than a little alarm.

"Are you kidding me? Rachel would kill me if I brought a gun anywhere near her!" 

"You could have mentioned that earlier," Darien growled, but suddenly the shooting stopped and they cautiously peered over the top, ready to jump to the next piece of cover at a moment's notice. The shooters were no where in sight and a gust of wind blew in through the open back door while another vehicle pulled swiftly away. "How many car's do they have!" Darien exclaimed with exasperation.

The only other occupant of the café was an old man who was also getting up from behind the counter. "Young people these days, so excitable!" Then he looked to the two agents and stated with a grimace, "Bobby Hobbes, should have figured you'd show up. Turn the table back, while you're over there, would you lad, and I'll make us all a cappuccino."

"Sure Pete," Bobby agreed and together, he and Fawkes up righted all the fallen furniture. Darien was surprised to find that most of the furniture was actually metal with wood lining, and just about all sported bullet wounds both old and new. This was a very odd town.

The three gathered at a table and sipped peaceably at their warm cups. "You must be Darien Fawkes," Pete opened. "Most here just call me Pete."

"How do you…?" Darien asked surprised.

Pete shrugged, "It's why you're both here, isn't? Rena and Pierre stole some disks from you and now they're heading north."

"Why would you tell us that?" Darien asked, confused, more so because Bobby was just as calm about it as this strange man was.

Pete laughed, "The world has changed much since I was your age, but it really hasn't, you know. Everyone's still trying to get the upper hand on everyone else. I haven't told you anything you don't already know, lad."

Then Hobbes asked, taking another sip at the drink. "What did they want?"

"The usual, info. Asked about you, they didn't know you were already here, Bobby. They seem to have an interest in your Agency, but I don't know why."

"And you don't know where they were heading?" Darien asked.

"North. It's almost always north, not many other places you can go from here." Pete stood then and amiably stated, "If you boys are done I've got some cleaning to do."

"Sure Pete, I'll see you later," Bobby stated and drowned the last of his cappuccino. As they were leaving Bobby was shaking his head, a look of consternation etched on his face.

"What?" Darien asked concerned.

"I just can never tell if he's lying or not," Bobby finally stated.

"Why hasn't anyone ever taken him in?" Darien asked curious.

"Are you kidding? You'd never get anything out of Old Pete that Old Pete didn't want to say! That and he feeds us."

Down the street only a block away, Arnaud stood with a 'floating' phone in hand while shaking the ice crystals from his feet.

"Why are you in another telephone booth?" The annoyed voice of Stark came through the line. "What happened to the cell phone I just gave you?"

"It's back at the inn. I didn't have the time to waste." He would have liked to get a bit further away from the Coffeemart at least, but this was the only payphone for blocks. "Use that world dominating technology of yours and follow a car for me." Arnaud growled out, he didn't like having to depend upon Chrysalis for anything, but he had to admit some of their toys were quite interesting.

"Fine," Stark responded in kind and took down the information Arnaud gave him. "I'm also sending up some specialists to meet you tomorrow."

"Fine." Arnaud didn't bother to say anything further and hung up on the man.

Darien had just opened the door to his car when he noticed the odd occurrence of the telephone booth's door opening and closing. Taking a chance, he quicksilvered his eyes and instantly the monochrome world revealed the man who'd been hidden within. "Arnaud!" He hissed out.

"What? Where?" Bobby asked sharply, looking around.

Darien took off running after the new light source, grabbing up snow as he went, and before Arnaud had realized Darien had discovered him, a ball of snow was flying straight for the invisible man. It landed with a plop, quickly followed by another ball of snow that froze and stuck to Arnaud like a mold.

"There!" Darien yelled in response to Bobby's question.

Arnaud swore and took off running, trying to shake the frozen snow from him as he went. 

Once it was off, he ran to and inside the town's resident Wal-Mart. 

Darien and Bobby skidded to a halt just inside the doors, an elder couple staring at them openly. Gazing around the store Darien couldn't see him anymore, and there were too many people to keep his eyes quicksilvered. "Damn it!"

"Don't worry partner," Bobby stated, tugging on his arm to go back outside. "He'll show up again." 

Darien let the quicksilver fall, but the rage didn't leave as quickly. 

…Four Balls of Snow  
Three Missing Disks  
Two Foreign Spies  
And Arnaud in a Telephone Booth


	5. Fifth Day of Christmas

On the Fifth Day of Christmas, my I-Man gave to me…

Darien dialed the number yet again, but then had to quickly grab another branch to keep his balance. The number started to go through, but after a second disconnected and the words 'out of range' flashed across the phone's face plate.

"Aw, crap!" Darien quietly griped then looked up for another stable branch within the tree he was currently wedged in the middle of. A snowball struck the branches around him and broke apart to shower him with little wet bits. Another was quick to follow. Darien looked down, unable to see, but after another two similar attacks of snow he simply yelled out, "Jason!"

"What are you doing up there Uncle Darien?" The young voice called up to him and at last the little boy appeared between at the base between the branches.

"I'm trying to make a phone call!" Darien yelled back.

"Oh. Mom wants to talk to you, she wants to know where Gampa is!"

"Your Gam- Uncle Bobby went into town, he'll be back in an hour." It was as lie, Bobby went to scout out the 'private property' that they suspected the two FQM had gone to. "Tell your mom I'll come in once I've made this call."

"Okay. But you look really funny!" Yet before Darien could respond the kid was racing back towards the house. 

After a night of enduring Rachel's hard gazes and sleeping on a hardwood floor, he wasn't so eager to be climbing this tree. But as far as he could tell, although she had electricity put in, she didn't have a single phone line in the house. Bobby still wouldn't talk about it, but the impression Darien got was that Rachel and her child were up here to be away from the normal world. Hiding, maybe? He shook his head and climbed another foot, enough that the top branches were thinning and no doubt wouldn't hold his weight if he tried it.

Dialing the number for The Agency once again, he was rewarded with an answer on the other end. It was a bit fuzzy, but the signal held. "Ebes? Eberts, can you hear me?"

"Yes Darien, you were supposed to call last night." Eberts answered curtly and Darien could actually hear the Official yelling something in the background, although the exact words were fuzzy. Darien cringed. 

"I know, I know, but reception's lousy here. I'm with Bobby, we found the spies. We think they have a sort of hideout, waypoint, or something, up here, we're looking into it today." Darien told him then added darkly, "We ran into Arnaud again, too, but he got away."

"Th-yes, sir," Eberts stated, responding to something The Official must have said, then spoke to Darien, "The Keeper's back, she'll have a shot of counteragent ready for you by tomorrow."

Darien unconsciously sighed with relief. "Great, thanks, Ebes, I'll check in again later."

"Dar-" Eberts began, but right then Darien very audibly heard the sharp sound of a branch cracking and he reactively shifted, loosing the connection. Shifting to new branches, Darien quickly tired the number again, but it came back 'out of zone', and not wanting to stay in the tree any longer than he had too, Darien just figured it probably wasn't anything important and started the careful trek down.

Smiling as he touched solid ground again, Darien looked up the tall tree, realizing just how far he'd climbed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd climbed a tree, and somehow, although scaling a building was considerably larger and more dangerous, it didn't seem to compare.

Grinning he walked back to the house, unfortunately he was still grinning as he walked in the door.

"Where is he?" Rachel demanded, startling Darien, descending upon him like a cat upon its prey.

"Uh?"

"Robert, where'd he go? Is this going to put us in danger, cause I need to know," Rachel asked relentless, then added with an annoyed flick of her hand, "And knock the snow off your boots before you come in!"

"Sorry," Darien immediately reciprocated, trying to push the already fallen snow back out the door.

Rachel sighed and grabbing a nearby broom to use said a little kinder, "I've got this. Take your jacket off, there's hot cider in the kitchen." She paused and frowned up at him. "You look like you just climbed a tree."

Darien took a chance and grinned again stating, "I did." Quickly taking off his jacket he entered the warmly decorated kitchen. It seemed like quite a contrast to the woman in the hall, but Darien knew it was just because she still didn't trust him. He remembered how long it took Hobbes to really trust him.

"Uncle Darien!" Jason yelled racing in and hugging his leg. "Pick me up, pick me up!" Darien laughed but did at the anxious kid wanted. Jason squealed with glee. "I want to climb trees and be as tall as you!"

"On no you don't!" Rachel stated, but there was a smile at the edges of her lips. Then she motioned for Darien to put Jason down and told her son, "Go draw me a picture, I need to talk to Darien here." Jason nodded, not the least bit perturbed and raced off.

Darien chuckled. "That kid's got the energy of a tiger."

"Just like his uncle," Rachel agreed, then fetched two mugs and filled them with the hot cider. Darien breathed in apprehensive. Rachel was obviously a very guarding woman, but she was also Bobby's sister and Darien wasn't sure how he felt about lying to her about what they were doing. Was she and Jason in danger with Bobby and him staying here? There was always a chance.

Rachel sighed, then began solemnly, "I don't know you Mr. Fawkes-"

"Just Fawkes, or Darien, please," Darien insisted.

She simply nodded and continued. "I don't know you, Jason obviously likes you, and my brother has changed a lot from the man I used to know. You're nothing like any of his previous partners, which makes me think it's you. Thank you."

"Ah…you're welcome," Darien replied a bit uneasy and quickly added, "You know Bobby's changed me, too. I'm nothing like who I used to be before I met him."

"You better believe it!" Hobbes good-naturedly stated walking into the kitchen to join them. "If it wasn't for Bobby Hobbes, my friend, you're be long dead by now!"

"I don't know about that," Darien quipped, but was grinning as he said it.

"Did you get a hold of the boss?" Hobbes asked

Darien nodded, then thought of how best to phrase it with Rachel there. "Claire's back, we have till tomorrow."

"No problem!"

Then Rachel spoke, glairing at them with narrowed eyes over the top of her mug. "Is either of you going to tell me what your case is?"

"Sorry Rach, it's better if we don't," Bobby told her sincerely.

"Will you be back tonight?" She asked evenly.

"That's the plan, but if we're not, don't worry about it," Bobby replied completely serious.

"Fine." She put the mug down and walked out. Bobby just sighed.

Later that day Darien and Bobby were met by an odd sight.

"One question. What is a telephone booth doing out in the middle of nowhere?" Darien asked perplexed. He and Bobby were nested in hiding on a hill that overlooked the edge of the private property and the road that lead into it. A phone booth was situated on the edge of the road.

"I'm not sure, but there's someone in it, and I think I know who," Hobbes replied, handing the binoculars over to his partner.

Taking them, Darien looked through, surprised to see that Bobby was right. From a distance it would be impossible to tell, but clearly, the receiver was moving. Changing to monochrome vision, Darien watched Arnaud as he finished whatever it was he was doing and stepped out of the booth to wait.

Rage surged up inside and Darien made to get up to go down there, but Hobbes put a restraining hand on his arm. "Let's wait and see what he's up to."

Reluctantly, Darien settled back down. Hobbes had said the first time he'd come through he'd driven right up to the house where an old couple lived and invited him in for tea and crumpets. There was nothing out of the ordinary that he could see, but his instincts said other wise, and now it looked to be paying off.

They watched and waited, as was Arnaud, until finally they could hear the soft hum of snowmobiles as they breached the edge of the forest, but from a different direction than the house was situated.

It was Pierre and Rena. They stopped right by the phone and Rena went so far as to get off and look around, but Arnaud was keeping quite staying out of sight. The two agents were too far away to be able to hear anything, but from the looks of things, the two who'd stolen their disks were confused and expected someone to be there at the telephone booth waiting for them. 

After another few minutes, Rena got back on her snowmobile and they set off once again into the trees. Arnaud went running after them, following the freshly made trail.

"Come on partner," Hobbes stated, and as they stood up to follow Arnaud Darien let the quicksilver fall from his eyes. Yet as they turned to go down the safe way, they came face to face with five men dressed in white and carrying five black guns, all of which were pointed at them. "Where'd you come from?" Hobbes demanded sounding more annoyed that they'd managed to sneak up on them.

"Chrysalis." The one in the middle answered calmly while pulling out a dart gun.

"Oh crap!" Darien and Bobby both murmured, and before the two could really do anything, the Chrysalis agent shot Darien with the dart, its feathered end sticking brightly out of his chest as he toppled to the snow unconscious.

Bobby growled out in defiance and tackled the nearest man, yet with five of them, and just the one unarmed Hobbes, it wasn't long before they had him pinned down and he had a dart in him like his fallen partner.

At that point, the world turned white, then black.

…Five Chrysali  
Four Balls of Snow  
Three Missing Disks  
Two Foreign Spies  
And Arnaud in a Telephone Booth


	6. Sixth Day of Christmas

Quick Author's Note: I fell behind on getting this out on time, but it will continue!

On the Sixth Day of Christmas, my I-Man gave to me...

Hobbes twiddled his thumbs as best he could. The rope around his wrists was chaffing with the movement, but Hobbes welcomed the irritation. He was growing more and more anxious, and of coarse the very fact that he could feel his pills in his pocket but couldn't get to them was a bit more than irritating. 

The vehicle slowed and the crunch of tires over fresh snow caught Bobby's attention. He looked up quickly from his position in the back of the Bronco they'd thrown him in. It was big enough in the back that Bobby was currently sitting against the back door with his hands resting on his knees while Darien lay next to him. His hands were also tied, but they might as well not be, they'd kept Darien drugged unconscious for the last day.

Their guard, also attracted by the crunch of snow, glanced out the tinted windows. They were pulling up next to what was probably an outpost judging by the satellite on the roof, and the telephone booth outside. Those things seemed to be everywhere these days, Hobbes thought to himself. Yet it wasn't so unnatural to see it here, they'd passed signs for camping earlier, this place was probably well used during the summer and the phone companies always wanted the most they could get out of people. Unfortunately, the only person to walk out of the building was one of the Chrysalis agents after checking the place out.

Arnaud got out of the Jeep in front and walked back to talk with their driver. He was the one who'd shot Bobby and Darien with the darts and for the most part seemed to be the person in charge of the five Chrysali. Since he hadn't heard any use of names between any of them, Hobbes had nicknamed the guy One, his guard was Two, and the rest were Three, Four and Five respectively.

One, a tall brute of a man, rolled down the window so Arnaud could lean in.

"We can use this place for now. The compound I followed them to is about five miles from here, it's well hidden and well guarded so we'll have to wait till tonight to sneak in." Arnaud stated, a scowl crossing his artificial face.

"What about them?" One questioned nodding slightly to the back.

Arnaud pierced Bobby with a sinister gaze, smirking, "I could care less what happens to Hobbes here." It took all of Hobbes' effort to refrain from commenting. His hands were clenched and the ropes bit sharply into his wrists, but they were also doing something else, they were stretching apart from a knot loosening under the strain. Carefully, Hobbes relaxed his wrists so the ropes wouldn't fall off and reveal this sudden small advantage.

One was also regarding Hobbes with a steely gaze but stated to Arnaud, "You should call in to Stark."

Arnaud rolled his eyes. With a few words under his breath he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number. After another growl he asked One for his phone, coming up with no success as they each came back as 'Out of Range.' Using some colorful language, the Swiss-German headed off to use the phone in the booth.

The hairs on Bobby's neck rose in alarm, somehow he didn't think Stark would feel all that different from Arnaud. Movement drew Bobby's gaze and he noticed his partner's face twitching, probably in response to the cold wind coming through the window.

Looking up and seeing Two only halfway paying attention, Bobby took a chance and twitched his foot against his partner's side. Darien breathed out with a barely audible moan, his eyelids fluttering slightly then slowly opening. Yet Hobbes could tell that Darien's eyes were still dilated, he wasn't likely to regain enough awareness to be able to do anything. But he could help cause a distraction, Bobby thought. He didn't want to leave his partner there, it was against all his instincts, but he could see the look on Arnaud's face as he was walking back, and Bobby Hobbes knew he wouldn't be any good to his partner dead!

Thinking quickly, Hobbes kicked Darien again, harder. Letting out another moan, Darien started shifting, visibly fighting to regain consciousness. Words mumbled incoherently through a thick tongue, Bobby thought he even heard his name being called and Darien fought even harder to wake up.

At the same time Arnaud had returned to window and had noticed Darien starting to come out of the drug induced sleep. "Idiot! You're supposed to watch for the first sign! Open the back!"

Leaning slightly forward, Bobby waited for the right moment when they'd be sure he wasn't going to try and interfere. The back of the Bronco came down and Three was there, but both he and Two were focusing more on Darien. Arnaud was working at filling a needle with the necessary drug. Bobby moved quickly, shifting his hands so the ropes fell then struck Three directly in the throat.

He kicked out at Two's hands, knocking the gun to the side and rolled back off the tail of the SUV. Four and Five were coming around the vehicle and Two was regaining his hold on his gun, Bobby didn't have much time, so he did the only thing he could do, he ran.

What they didn't know was that Bobby Hobbes was a fantastic runner, even Fawkes with his long legs had admitted that Bobby was good. So, hindered only slightly by the mass of snow, Bobby expertly broke through the line of trees, using the barest touch on passing trees to maintain balance as he sped away.

He could hear the crackle of the Chrysali smashing through branches in their haste to follow. And they call themselves professionals, Bobby scorned, but he quickly realized they had a major advantage. The previously untouched snow was leaving his trail wide open and even if they themselves weren't as fast, their guns were.

As if encouraged by the thought, a sharp twang struck a tree only inches from his head. Hobbes pushed himself further, the cold air beginning to burn his throat with the effort. More twangs began to chase after him, the shots careless and searching for a lucky hit.

Hobbes wasn't sure how long he'd run, or what direction he was headed in, wondering idly if he should try heading for the road. Then at last ill luck struck and one of the random bullets the Chrysali were shooting off burned a hole right through Bobby's left thigh. He clenched his teeth again the sudden pain, the force of the blow tripping him as he crested a small hill sending him rolling down the uncut path.

This is it, Bobby thought to himself, but when he slid to a stop he found himself at the feet of the most unlikely pair. Rena and Pierre were staring at Hobbes in deep confusion. Then the five Chrysali crested the hill and immediately opened fire on the two foreign spies.

"Aw crap!" Hobbes muttered and frantically pulled himself back out of the fray. The spies also reacted quickly, pulling back to use trees for protection while they pulled out their own guns and a fire fight quickly ensued. 

Hobbes was actually quite grateful for their interruption, and took full advantage of it to get as far away as possible. His injured leg didn't want to support him and the pain intensified with every minute, but Hobbes determinedly kept going leaving a glistening trail of red as he went. 

Finding the road while both groups were distracted would be quite helpful, but regrettably, Hobbes realized now he was probably no where near it. What he needed to do first was stop the blood from leaking out of his leg and giving him away. Figuring he was far enough to avoid an immediate search, he spotted a cavity in a group of rocks. Hobbes limped over and sank to the frozen ground. This spot wasn't actually so bad, and gave quite a bit of cover. It would work for now.

He examined his bloodied leg, prodding the wound to see just how bad it was. A quick examination told him the bone was spared, and despite the amount of blood pouring out both the entry and exit wounds, it wasn't enough to indicate the artery was hit. He got lucky. Mind you, if he did nothing he was still liable to bleed to death. Hobbes pulled off his jacket and the sweater underneath, shivering as the cold wind blew against his bare chest. Quickly putting the jacket back on, but already noticing how much heat had been lost in just that short amount of time, he went ahead and tied the entire sweater firmly around his leg, the edges of the thick cloth bleeding red.

Breathing deep against the pain, Hobbes leaned back, just letting his leg throb for a few minutes. After a thought, Hobbes reached into his pocket and pulled out his pills, gratefully dry swallowing two. He wasn't sure if they'd ease the pain at all, but it was worth taking them anyway.

"Can't stay here, Bobby, my friend," he murmured to himself and twisted to try and rise to his feet again, but the crack of a twig caused him to stop. Bobby quickly looked around for anything he could use as a weapon. Any loose rocks were buried under a foot of snow and the branches were too green to yank off quietly. 

Grabbing a handful of snow and ignoring the numbing cold he quickly packed it into a tight ball until he had four of them. Then he listened, straining his ears for further sounds that they had found him. There wasn't much, but the small crunch of feet walking on snow was enough.

Grinding his teeth, he pulled the one good leg under him, sitting in an awkward crouch but able to stay hidden while he waited till the crunching came close enough. Then, with deadly accuracy, Hobbes swung the packed balls of snow at his assailant one right after the other. He took off immediately in the other direction, sheer will enabling him to ignore the shoots of pain stretching up through his body.

"Bobby!" A familiar voice complained behind him. Surprised, Bobby turned, all awareness coming back as he fell back into the snow when momentum refused to turn with him. Alex quickly ran up to him, snow still dripping from her hair and jacket from Bobby's assault. "Hobbes, you okay?"

Bobby looked at her still shocked. "Monroe. What are you doing here?" 

Alex smirked, brushed the rest of the snow off and stated, "From the looks of it saving your ass. What happened? Where's Fawkes?"

"Arnaud has him," Bobby told her darkly. He grimaced as Alex helped him up, but couldn't hold back the small cry as he accidentally put his weight on his left leg. The short sprint had been far more than he should have done.

Frowning with concern, Alex quietly asked, "How bad is it?"

"I'll live," Hobbes stated hoarsely, then asked, as much to distract her from worry as himself, "How'd you find me?"

Once again Alex smirked. "I am an expert tracker you know."

"Ya ya..."

"I talked to your sister. She told me about the compound that's up here, said she figured that's where you and Fawkes headed." Alex added.

Hobbes looked at her sharply. "Rachel knew about the compound?"

Alex was startled. "I thought you would have mentioned it to her." Bobby didn't answer, and from the darkening look on his face it'd be a delicate question so she continued with the immediate concern. "We have to get you out of here."

"No." Bobby stated, his attention also turning to the immediate problem. "We can't leave Fawkes. I don't know what Arnaud plans to do with him or what his deal is with the FQM, but they were talking about sneaking into the compound tonight."

Alex shook her head. "It's not going to happen. Not tonight anyway. I've seen the compound, security's tight, and thanks to the fire fight I heard, I'm sure it's even tighter now than before. So come on, first things first, we need to get you help."

Hobbes made to protest, but she pushed him into a walk and the protest turned into a grunt. Resigning, he asked, "Where's your car?"

"Ah..." Alex paused, her face clouding over with thought as she looked around, then pointing in one direction stated, "about five miles that-a-way." Hobbes grunted again.

They made their way slowly in the direction Alex had pointed. She'd worried they'd be followed, but every time she'd backtracked or scouted around, there was no sign of any pursuit.

"Maybe they all killed each other," Hobbes suggested hopefully after she came back for the third time. 

Alex just made a face of discernment, then frowned deeper as she regarded Hobbes. He was leaning tiredly against the tree, balanced solely on his good leg. From an outside perspective it looked like he was standing on both legs, but the truth of the matter was that he'd lost all feeling now in his left leg, the pain that should have been in his thigh was instead reaching up his side and clenching under his ribs. If he moved, he could feel his leg again, but he'd really rather not.

"You can't keep this up." Alex simply stated.

"Bobby Hobbes has made it through a lot worse, my friend," Bobby bit out annoyed. "Let's go Monroe."

Her lips thinned, but she didn't say anything and putting his arm around her shoulders lead him in a new direction. Bobby was just tired enough that he didn't notice. Not longer after they came to a small clearing and another cavity almost big enough to be a cave. Alex led him over to it. "We can rest here," She stated softly.

Hobbes nodded. He realized suddenly this was planned and knew what she intended. If it didn't make more sense he would have continued to protest, but instead let himself be lowered to the ground. An overhanging bank of rock formed the cavity and also kept most of the snow from blowing in so it was a slight bit warmer.

Alex crouched down in front of him, pulling off her mini black backpack and handing it to him. "I'll be right back." He just nodded. 

She returned a few minutes later, dragging a few torn branches from a pine tree with their needles still attached. She set them up next to the cavity, giving it that much more protection from the wind as well as an amateur cover.

Meanwhile, Hobbes had taken to investigating the contents the backpack. There was her phone, which he tried with no success as it kept coming back 'Out of Range', a pair of binoculars, a night scope, waterproof matches, lighter fluid, extra clip and a zip lock bag with six oatmeal cookies. "What's this?"

"The back pack Fawkes gave me for Christmas, remember?" Alex replied.

"No, what's this?" He held up the bag of cookies.

"Oh, I forgot those were in there," Alex replied looking properly abashed.

"Forgot?" Hobbes had the bag open and was munching hungrily away in the next second. It didn't take him long to finish all six.

Walking up with a slight smile, Alex asked him, "So, what did you think?"

"'Bout what?" He questioned searching the bag for crumbs.

"The cookies."  


"Don't know."

"You don't know? You just scarfed down the whole bag!" Alex complained sounding a bit hurt.

"I was eating them, not tasting them!" Hobbes replied in defense, then looked up at her surprised, "Monroe, did you make these?"

"Forget it," Alex stated with a grimace, and more seriously told him. "I think you should stay here. I can get to my car a lot faster if I travel alone. Once I get back to town I can get help, we'd be back up for you and Fawkes by tomorrow morning, I promise."

Hobbes thought about it, but he'd already decided the second he'd realized what she planned. Bobby nodded. "Don't worry about me. Just get people up here to get Fawkes back." She didn't bother arguing with him, but before she could leave, Bobby called out. "Hey Monroe. I don't know if Arnaud will have counteragent, but Fawkes was real close."

Alex nodded then simply disappeared back onto the trees. Hobbes sighed, shifting with a small gasp as he curled up tighter against the protecting rock. He shivered and wrapped his arms around his chest trying to conserve as much heat as possible. Tonight was going to be one long night.

...Six Oatmeal Cookies  
Five Chrysali  
Four Balls of Snow  
Three Missing Disks  
Two Foreign Spies  
And Arnaud in a Telephone Booth


	7. Seventh Day of Christmas

On The Seventh Day of Christmas, my I-Man gave to me...

Hobbes squinted his eyes, the world before him was dark and blurry, but he couldn't tell if it was because it was still night or because he was loosing it. "Bobby Hobbes is not crazy!" He gritted out between chattering teeth.

The cold had set into his bones, gratefully numbing any semblance of pain, but unfortunately numbing everything else as well. It'd be fine if he'd just stop shaking, he bitterly thought to himself and tried shifting once again. His joints were so slow to respond he wasn't even sure if they were moving at all, but he assumed they had for a fresh jolt of pain surged up his side causing him to gasp sharply.

After that, Bobby just laid still, waiting for dawn to appear. He wasn't sure when he actually fell asleep, or if it could be even called sleep, but his thoughts had turned inward in any case. To the things he'd accomplished, the things he yet to do, and the people who mattered to him, his partner, Fawkes, Monroe...and Claire. 

It was as if she was right there with him. He could just imagine the way she'd react, the look of concern on her face as she patched him up, took care of him. And he'd take care of her, too, it was a vow he'd made a long time ago even if he hadn't ever vocalized it. The vision played itself out, adding elements that Bobby could only dream about, but he didn't care, it was at least warming him. 

A warmth that lasted longer that he'd thought possible, till at last, when his consciousness was on the edge of awareness he realized it was coming from in front of him as well as behind. "Claire?" He mumbled softly.

"No, sorry." This pulled Bobby stiffly from the dream as he instinctually tried now to pull away from the warmth. Firm hands easily held him down. "Hold still." Came the soft but naturally stern reply. 

Opening his eyes, Bobby could now see the fire that had previously been a small twig piled attempt. It's heat soaking against his face as its flames curled up in greeting. The body pressed up against his chilled form was the other source of heat and slowly Bobby was able to fully return to consciousness. The throbbing through his leg and the growing knot in his side confirming for him that he was now indeed awake.

"Monroe. What happened?" He asked simply, realizing this was all out of place. It was still dark, she shouldn't have been back till morning. "Did you get to Fawkes?"

"They found my car, the engine was blown out." She told him quietly, then said, "Don't worry about it, we'll find him. Just sleep now."

Bobby wanted to protest, he wanted to get going, the need to find his partner driving his thoughts, but the ache of the cold and sheer exhaustion was enough to quiet them. In a short amount of time he'd slipped back to a more peaceful unconsciousness to wait for the sun to rise.

For Darien the dark had become his prison. With perhaps an animal instinct, he could tell when things were changing, feel the tensions rise, around him and in himself. He vaguely remembered Bobby being there for a while, but that presence was gone now. Currently, the presence he was aware of the most was Arnaud. And therefore a cold hatred had come to inhabit the darkness with him. 

The hatred grew from time to time, sparking with something his mind kept telling him should hurt, that it wasn't really a part of him, but something else. It was the gland, it had it's own presence in his mind, accented now by the black of unconsciousness, leaving him susceptible to its influence as the presence grew, feeding off his cold hatred till at last they were all he was aware of.

The part of his mind he'd come to call his conscience observed that if he was awake his eyes would probably be red.

Then another awareness entered the darkness, coming quick with a bite that wasn't so unfamiliar to him either. The counteragent swept quickly through his veins, flooding his blood with its chemical toxins and pushing back the control of the gland, leaving Darien feeling lost and helpless in its wake. The powerful agent once again did its work, eradicating his blood of foreign elements, including a lot of the drug he'd been doused with for so long. 

At last the darkness began to fade and groggily Darien opened his eyes. The first sight to greet him was the sun coming through an iced over window as it crested the line of trees outside. Then he turned his head and met the steady gaze of Arnaud. The man stood regarding him with a familiar half scowl etched on his face. It turned into a smug smirk in the next instant, although the way his eyes still flickered about the room, Darien knew Arnaud's guard hadn't come down one bit. "Good morning Darien."

Darien lunged for his enemy, or at least he tried to. It was more like a half roll out of the bed to land awkwardly on the floor as he realized his hands were tied and the rest of his limbs weren't in the most cooperative mood. In fact, he was amazed he'd been able to move even that much, all his muscles felt like lead.

To his further surprise, Arnaud bent down and grabbing Darien under the arm helped pull him up to sit on the bed. "You don't think, do you?" He stated drolly. "Your brother was impulsive, too, it's what made him so great you know."

"Don't talk about my brother," Darien growled out, but his voice was ruff and dry from ill-use. Fighting to regain control of his muscles he demanded. "What did you do to me?"

"You've been asleep for over a day. It was easier than trying to keep you controlled, I don't exactly have a padded room here to throw you in, much as I'd love to," Arnaud gripped looking about the stark and currently otherwise unoccupied cabin station. 

"Then why haven't you just drugged me again?" Darien asked sourly. He was twisting his wrists trying to loosen the knot but even that little movement was quickly sapping any strength he'd gained upon waking. He was conscious now yet exhaustion lay heavy on his bones. 

Arnaud was watching what Darien was obviously attempting to do with a look of distaste, but still answered with a shrug, "I ran out."

"Big mistake," Darien murmured, hatred filling his eyes as he stared up at his mortal enemy. Energy or not, he still had the drive to kill the man before him. Quicksilvering his wrists he froze and broke the confining bands with some effort and pushed himself speedily to his feet, letting the momentum of his forced movements to carry him to his foe.

Arnaud did little to stop Darien but practically let the angered man push him against the closest wall, only a deepening look of annoyance conveying his feelings. "You know Darien," Arnaud gritted out as Darien's hands found residence around his throat. At lest he wasn't hanging from the wall as usual, Arnaud thought ironically. "You really don't have the strength for this." He stated.

"Watch me!" Darien pushed even harder, angry passion fueling his adrenaline to continue, but in the next instant he felt a knee ram sharply up into his chest, and whatever false strength had been carrying him fled. He hit the floor like a piece of putty, breath coming back intermixed coughs and gasps. That hurt a lot worse than he thought it would.

Arnaud shook his head in disapproval, rubbing his throat as he moved to an open case sitting atop a nearby table fishing out a needle and bottle with a clear liquid inside.

Watching wearily, Darien weakly pulled himself up to sit leaning against the wall. "I thought you ran out," he mumbled, feeling dread replace the wasted adrenaline in his veins. 

Arnaud walked up and crouched down beside him with the filled needle. "I said I ran out of the sleep agent. This won't knock you out, but it'll at least keep you otherwise occupied in something other than myself." He reached out to give Darien the shot but Darien grabbed his wrist, stubbornly fighting the inevitable. Arnaud simply pulled it away with his free hand and plunged the syringe into Darien's neck before any further fighting ensued.

Hissing from the little but painful prick, Darien squeezed his eyes shut against the toxin as it raced through his body faster than the counteragent had. A few moments later the world turned a pleasant soft hue.

Hobbes grunted softly as his foot snagged yet another hidden branch beneath the snow. 

"You okay?" Alex automatically asked for what was probably the hundredth time that morning. 

"Yes," Bobby replied drawing it out dripping with sarcasm.

"Alight, alight," Alex snapped back, but her face soften immediately after when Bobby snagged his foot once again and would have fallen it he wasn't already being half carried to begin with. 

"You should just leave me and get going," Bobby told her between clenched teeth. They'd been walking all morning with the speed of molasses. 

Alex gave him a reproachful look then stopped, forcing him to stop as well. "We can rest here for a minute."

"I'm serious, Alex." 

Monroe's head turned sharply to look at him, her face lined with serious doubt. Then she pulled her backpack off, forcing a grin as she stated in a half joking manor, "I thought Bobby Hobbes never bailed on his partner?"

"Bobby Hobbes 'doesn't' bail on his partner!" Hobbes emphatically told her, adding, "That's why you need to get going. Before Arnaud does something screwy with Fawkes, or he goes red eyed, or whatever, I don't know. But I can't get there in time, and you can!"

"We don't know that," Alex quietly replied, that said point of fact, "We go together." It was end of discussion. 

Hobbes sighed, boy was that woman stubborn! But he took the oatmeal cookie she offered him anyway and they ate in silence. There hadn't been much at her car that she hadn't already had with her, except another small bag of the baked goodies she'd originally brought as a snack. She'd forced him to eat four this morning, the breakfast of champions! They each finished the single one now, and Hobbes asked, trying not to sound so hopeful, "Any more?"

Distractedly shaking her head, Alex continued her minute observation of their surroundings. A look of perplexity was currently inhabiting her face and Hobbes turned to see what had disturbed her. There, in the not so far distance was a flock of pigeons. Seven of them, all lined up on the stronger branches of a tree. Seeing pigeons in a forest was odd on its own, Bobby was used to them rummaging at his feet in the city, but they way they all seemed to be watching them was giving Bobby the willies!

Alex must have felt the same way, for in the next minute she had taken out her gun and aimed it at the cluster of birds. They took wing almost immediately, flying out and into the other trees for cover. Monroe didn't even have to pull the trigger.

This time Hobbes did shiver. "Uh! It's like The Birds, or something."

"What?"

"You know, Hitchcock." He shivered again just for good measure. "Creepy."

"Ya," She replied still distracted by the pigeon's watching gazes, now coming through the cover of winter leaves and pine needles. "Let's go."

"No complaint here." But he did complain, if just softly as he shifted his leg back into a semblance of motion. A couple hours later, after at least some progress, Hobbes suddenly felt the hairs of instinct rise on the back of his neck. He told Alex to stop and twisted around. Behind them was the same flock of pigeons, all seven of them, he was sure of it. They hadn't been obviously following them, but there they were, no doubt about it. "Now that really is creepy! Like they're waiting for me to keel over so they peck all the flesh from my bones!"

"Hobbes!" Monroe instantly complained.

Bobby yelled back to the birds. "It's never going to happen, do you hear?! You can't have Bobby Hobbes!" The he added in a much quieter voice, grumbling out, "Dirty scavengers, they al-"

"Shhh!" Alex suddenly said, but Bobby just kept going.

"-way think they have the upper hand, always-"

"Quiet!" She hissed. Hobbes stopped, straining his ears. Off in the distance was the unmistakable sound of a motor, a snowmobile or two, most likely, and it was getting closer. 

"Ah, crap!" They both whispered, and Bobby's instincts flared to life. "Monroe, get going, I'll delay them as much as possible so you can make your getaway."

"What? I don't think so. You're not thinking straight," she simply stated then propelled him over to one of the larger trees. "I still have my gun remember? We're not completely helpless here." She softly chastened. "They're coming fast enough that they just might come right through this path without noticing our trail. You hide here and when they do you can beam them with snowballs. That should distract them enough for me to shoot them if need be."

Hobbes was admitably impressed with her plan. "How do you know I'll hit them?"

Monroe smirked. "You hit me, didn't you?" She left him then and hurried across the snow packed ground, making sure Hobbes knew where she was hidden. 

It turned out the snowmobiles weren't so far off and had in fact been heading straight for them. Hobbes could see them now as they came around the bend in the path, it was Rena and Pierre, but they were also slowing which meant that the two spies knew they were there. Grabbing up the handful of snowballs he's quickly assembled, Hobbes waited as long as he dared before he sent a fist full of snow after each rider.

The wet smack resounded off the quiet trees as the balls hit home and the two snowmobiles quickly skidding to a halt as their rider's strove to clear their eyes. Yet either these spies weren't as dumb as they usually come or they had some unseen advantage. Instead of turning towards their immediate attacker, they both slid off their machines, using them as covered as they quickly yanked their guns out and faced the opposite direction, exactly where Monroe was hiding.

Hobbes tried again, throwing another two balls of snow in their direction, but he didn't have the line of sight he did before and it only gained him a single stray bullet in his direction. Alex took the opportunity to open fire on the two spies. Sounds of clanging metal reverberated intermixed by the returning fire, neither gaining any ground. 

It was a draw, and Monroe only had the one extra clip. Then he could see Pierre motioning to Rena and she started up her snowmobile, using it for mobile cover to get around to a position where she could see behind Monroe's protective tree. She was pinned and soon she'd be in clear sight.

Clenching his jaw in determination, Hobbes pushed himself off his own tree. Snowballs weren't enough anymore. Pierre's attention and gun was trained on Alex's tree so that he didn't even notice as Hobbes came running at an uneven trot behind him. 

As time would have it, Hobbes just wasn't quite quick enough. He heard the spray of gunshots from every direction even as he leaped out at his offender, hoping to give Alex the advantage to get away with. But, like a slow motion film, he saw Pierre's gun go off right before he bowled them to the ground.

Agonizing pain shot straight up his leg which had protested as much to the fall as to the short sprint. Unable to hold back the cry from his lips, he squeezed his eyes closed against the fears that raked his mind. He'd seen the gun go off, saw the flash of color out of the corner of his eye that he'd swear had been Alex. And now there was only silence.

"Damn, it wasn't suppose to go down like this!" It was Rena's voice that first pierced the blackness. 

Then Pierre spoke, "Whatever. They asked for him, not her." Bobby didn't know who 'they' were, a thousand possibilities coming instantly to mind while he felt his hands being tied with a plastic peace bond. All he could do right now was breath, just focus your breathing, Bobby thought numbly to himself, the physical pain amplifying the emotional pain ten fold. 

He finally opened his eyes as the two foreign spies picked him up, carefully helping him onto the back of one of the snowmobiles, Pierre sitting in front of him. The young Frenchman looked back at him and drolly smirked. "It's a wonder you've made it as far as you have."

"Bobby Hobbes is full of wonders," Hobbes exclaimed in reaction, but his voice was dull, monotone, his eyes were locked on the huddled form laying face down in the snow a ways off. Pierre didn't reply and soon the two snowmobiles came to life, quickly leaving the scene. 

Darien stared calmly out across the snow-covered driveway. To an outside observer, Darien looked serene and content standing there in the snow, his hands hanging loosely in his pockets. A doctor might notice his eyes were a bit glassy, and rarely was he blinking against the dryness of his eyes, but the doctor would have to be looking for it to really see it. 

Inside, life was good, sweet, he was completely at peace. Idly he turned his gaze to Arnaud who was currently inside the phone booth talking to someone. Somewhere in Darien's awareness his mind told him he hated that man, that he wanted to kill him. At some point, he thought calmly, but right now he felt more content to just stand there and watch. 

Arnaud stepped out of the booth right as the five Chrysali strode out of the trees, One in the lead. Turning to them Arnaud questioned, "Well?"

"There's no way in, even for you. They have thermal surveillance, it'd take an army to get in. I'd say they were prepared." One replied, then added, "There was no sign of the owner of the vehicle down the street, but we saw them bring in Agent Hobbes."

Lips thinning, Arnaud sarcastically returned, "Hurray for them."

One ignored the comment and stated, "I don't think Chrysalis would be inclined to invade a base of the FQM at this time."

"No, of coarse not," Arnaud agreed sourly, but added, "I just talked to Stark, he's started negotiations with them. We have to wait at least till tomorrow for a reply."

One nodded and motioned to his men to check the perimeter while headed for the cabin, Arnaud a step behind. Then One turned around and frowned over at Darien who was still just standing there, watching. "What's with him?"

Arnaud looked back having almost left his charge outside. He frowned. "I was experimenting with an alternative to counteragent to combat QSM. It doesn't quite work the way I want it to." Then Arnaud motioned directly to Darien and said, "Darien, come here!"

Darien didn't move, a look adjacent to open curiosity plastered on his face. Arnaud sighed with exasperation and repeated his order with more emphasis on each word as if he were talking to a stubborn child. "Darien. I said, come, here!" At last Darien moved towards him, but it was more like an automatic reaction that any conscious thought of his own. 

To Darien, the world continued to simply be there.

...Seven Pigeon's Watching  
Six Oatmeal Cookies  
Five Chrysali  
Four Balls of Snow  
Three Missing Disks  
Two Foreign Spies  
And Arnaud in a Telephone Booth.


	8. Eighth Day of Christmas

On the Eighth Day of Christmas, My I-Man gave to me...

The voices swam towards her like a distant horn through a mass of fog, unclear and surrealistic in meaning.

"Alex, Alex sweetie, you need to wake up."

"Claire, I really think she's-"

"She's not dead, Rachel." The voice was definitive in its declaration. Alex's mind wanted to contest the point.

"Come off it Keepley, her whole side is covered in blood, and she's completely blue in the face, she looks dead to me. We need to keep going."

"No, not yet." Once again the voice was firm in it's decision. Alex wanted to encourage them to go, they needed to get to Fawkes, and to Hobbes...she couldn't remember what had happened to him. 

Alex could feel hands prodding her, a small sprout of pain at her side, but it was all as distant as the voices. 

"She is alive." A small sigh of relief followed. "There's a pulse, strong, too. Lucky for Monroe she's an extremely stubborn woman."

"You could have fooled me," the words sounded sarcastic, in a familiar kind of tone, but it wasn't the familiar voice she'd normally put to it.

"The wound it superficial, bled a lot but it's already sealing up on it's own, nothing serious." The prodding continued elsewhere and the sting at her side eased. "I'd say she's unconscious from hitting her head on this rock here, no doubt has a concussion."

"Who knows how long she's been out here." The other voice commented.

"Well, her face is quite cold from the snow, there's a bit of frostbite, but she should be- Alex, what are you wearing?!" 

Alex wanted to tell them, but they were still too far off. With some effort she pushed herself towards consciousness, towards the voices. 

"What?"

"Under her clothes she's wearing," The voice was quite amused, "thermal pajamas."

The other voice chuckled, then said, "Smart!"

"Probably saved her life."

At last more was coming into her awareness. Alex thought she even recognized the last voice as the Keeper. What was the Keeper doing way out here? Fighting for control, Alex managed to part her frozen lips, and breathed out, "Claire?"

"Waking up I see," the voice responded.

Alex creaked her eyes open, the bright light of the rising sun stinging them as much as the imbedded cold, but leaning over her was the Keeper, a look of relief on the woman's face. Numb thoughts traveled slowly through Alex's mind and her lips cracked into the barest hint of a smile. "Bobby would be jealous," she murmured, the words barely audible.

"What?" Claire asked frowning, thinking she'd misheard, but Alex returned her question with another.

"Where's Hobbes?"

"You're the only one we've found." Alex turned her head towards the other voice, Rachel. The woman was standing a pace away, a look of grim determination across her face. She looked anxious to go, Alex didn't blame her. She tried to accommodate but her body refused to move.

From the look of struggle on Monroe's face, Claire guessed what she was trying to do. "Alex, just lie still for right now. Let your body adjust back on it's own. We can spare an hour here, trust me, it'll make all the difference." Claire told her sternly, then turned to the impatient Rachel giving her an equally stern gaze till the woman relented. "Rachel, pass me one of the hand warmers and see if there's any of the soup left in the thermos."

Rachel sighed, but pulled off her pack, which was substantially bigger than Alex's had been and well stocked. The Keeper quickly and efficiently saw to the bullet wound that had pierced Alex's side. She may have been saying it was superficial, but it sure didn't feel like it. Alex gritted her teeth, then regretted even that motion. Her face felt stretched, sore. Claire reassured her that she'd been lucky. All the colder spots had turned gray, but not white. "Once you warm up you'll feel a lot better. And there shouldn't be any scaring, so long as you don't scratch them! The frozen epidermis layers need to peel off on their own as the fresh layers grow underneath it."

Right now, Alex was happy to be moving at all. They'd helped her sit up, the headache from 'hitting her head' causing the world to spin in reaction, but Claire gave her something for that as well, and Alex was plainly surprised at the amount of food Rachel had packed into the bag. It was a regular old picnic out in the middle of nowhere. There was even a small bag of the oatmeal cookies she'd left at the woman's house when she stopped through before.

Shrugging, Rachel replied in response to Alex's curious glance, "They're not bad you know."

"You made these?" Claire asked surprised and looking her own cookie, maybe a bit more suspiciously that she ought to. They each had two, as well as bread, meat, cheese, and there had indeed been warm soup in the thermos. Alex hadn't realized just how hungry she was, that was when it occurred to her to inquire, "What day is it?"

"The first." Rachel returned, smirking drolly. "Great way to begin the New Year isn't it?"

Alex turned suspicious eyes upon the woman, remembering the small remark Hobbes had made, what, two days ago now, that long? "How come you're here? How did you know where to go?"

Rachel's lips thinned, but it was Claire who answered. "I asked her to come. When I got to her place and found out that none of you had checked in for a few days I knew something bad had happened. Rachel's an expert tracker, knows the terrain."

"What about your kid?" Alex was once again focused on Rachel.

"He's at the house, a friend, Dan, is looking after him." She paused, then replied seeing that Alex's gaze wasn't letting up any. "Dan's CIA."

"And you're...?"

"Ex-CIA." Then Rachel gave her a sardonic look. "Robert's not the only one who's been in and out of the Company. I still have connections. I've known the FQM was up here in the mountains for some time now. They've got a hidden compound snuggled into the side of the mountain west of here. I also know they've been doing experiments of sorts there. They've got most of the surrounding area blacked out, it's why you can't get a cell phone to work here." She paused, then narrowly regarding both Alex and Claire stated, "They've got a lot of secrets, not unlike your Agency." But neither woman commented further.

Instead, Alex proceeded to tell them everything that she had learned in the past few days. 

"Since we didn't find Bobby here, it's safe to assume the FQM took him," Claire mused.

"They probably haven't killed him, or they would have just left him here," Rachel added, her comment coming out detached and objective, but there was a small look of relief in her eyes that they all felt. 

"Our first priority has got to be Fawkes," Alex stated. 

Rachel looked ready to protest, but Claire spoke first, also agreeing with Alex. "Yes, indeed." And after a glance at the furious woman's face, added, "Bobby can take care of himself. You said yourself they wouldn't have killed him, and we need to get Darien away from Arnaud as quickly as possible." 

Rachel still didn't look convinced, she could be as stubbornly protective as Hobbes could, Alex realized, once again reminded of their similarities. She calmly asked, "How well do you think we could get into the compound?"

"Alex-" Claire complained, but Alex waved her quiet, her gaze locked on Rachel's.

The woman's lips thinned, but after a minute said with the barest hint of anger, "Not well. Fine. We'll go after your friend, it'd be what Robert would want anyway." Then she told them. "But I doubt they'd be at the Ranger's anymore. You said these guys were with Chrysalis?"

Alex nodded, and was surprised to find the rueful smile curling on Rachel's lips as the woman nodded to Claire. "Before you showed up last night Keepley, I heard the FQM were starting negotiations with a group called Chrysalis. They'd be at the meet spot down at the other end. The FQM are real paranoid about letting anyone inside their bases."

"You heard?"

Rachel's smile widened and she surprised them both by replying with, "Hobbes.net."

Darien stared at the pigeons, and the pigeons stared back. 

Arnaud was standing back inside the phone booth at the end of the road that led up to the quaint house beyond. He lifted the receiver and dialed the code number he had used once before. After a moment a scowl appeared and he turned to One waiting just outside. "Give me fifty cents."

One dug out the change, then turned to regard their prisoner. Two and Three were watching Darien, now, but it didn't seem necessary anymore. Only a short time ago the Agency's agent had gone from practically a vegetable to the attention span of a two year-old. It was almost more than they'd been able to handle until Arnaud gave him the rest of the drug. Now the man was once again as sedate as before.

One looked over to see what held Fawkes attention so and frowned. Seven pigeons were sitting in the tree across the clearing, and eerily seemed as interested in the agent as he was in them. One had to suppress a shiver and turned back as Arnaud stepped out of the booth.

"This shouldn't take long," the Swiss-German stated. The negotiations had ended in a trade that Arnaud wasn't so sure was to their advantage. For some reason the FQM wanted Fawkes, or more likely, his gland, and in return they'd give them the three stolen disks as well as other information that Stark had assured Arnaud was worth it. Far be it from me to dispute the great Chrysalis, Arnaud thought sarcastically to himself. 

Frowning Claire gazed down at the group below through the small binoculars. Rachel had been right, they were at the 'meet spot' as predicted. And everyone was there, Arnaud, the five Chrysalis agents...and Darien.

"What is he doing?" Alex questioned exasperated. The three of them were up on the hill's ledge in the exact spot Darien and Hobbes had hid once before.

"Looks like he's just standing there," Claire replied still frowning. This didn't make any sense. 

"Maybe he's not the guy you think he is," Rachel proposed, fidgeting in her spot on the other side of Alex.

Monroe turned, glaring at the woman. "What are you implying?"

Face hardening in anger, she responded, "Look, I know he's your friend and all, and he seemed like a nice guy, but they always do. I'm just saying it a possibility, it's not like it'd be even close to the first time one of Robert's partner's turned out bad."

Claire shook her head, still gazing through the lens, speaking almost absently. "No. Darien's not like that. He may go crazy from time to time, but he'd never do anything to betray us, let alone Bobby...willingly."

Alex frowned, she could see one of the Chrysalis approaching Darien, but Darien wasn't paying him any more attention that he was anything else. "What's going on, Claire?"

"I'm not sure, but from the way Darien's acting I'd say he was drugged, only...I don't know."

Rachel sighed, then bluntly said, "Alright, so what's the plan?" 

Claire put the binoculars down and asked simply, "Do we have a plan?"

Shifting, and wincing, Alex thought about it for a second, then replied, "We only have the one gun and one clip, so if I go around and cause a distraction, lead the Chrysalis guys away, maybe it'd give you both enough time to grab Darien and get away. Assuming of coarse one of you knows how to hotwire a car."

"Alex, you're in no condition-"

Monroe cut the Keeper off. "They don't know either of you are even out here, I want to keep it that way."

"Well, sounds like a plan to me. I can handle the car bit," Rachel stated, curling back to stand up out of sight.

It looked like Claire was to protest some more, but instead stated definitively, "We'll pick you up around the bend." 

The three woman worked quickly and quietly as they snuck around to their respective spots. Claire and Rachel were supposed to wait for the first shot before leaving the trees. 

Claire took a chance and crouching low peeked out through some brush. She almost gave away their position when she suddenly realized Darien was looked straight back at her, but his face didn't change expression and he didn't move. It was eerie, he face was normally so full of emotion, like an open book, now though his gaze reminded her of something more like autism. Like he was aware of everything but he couldn't react.

Thankfully, the Chrysalis agents weren't very interested in what Darien was looking at anymore, just in keeping an eye on him so that he didn't stray. At last the first ring of the bullet flew out and they could hear the call of alarm go up.

Another bullet sang in the air and they all caught a glimpse of Alex's jacket as she appeared then disappeared back within the trees.

One of the Chrysalis cursed, then quickly ordered, "You, stay with him, the rest of you with me!" Arnaud seemed in the midst of indecision as to whether to follow as well, but soon decided to stay. Darien had turned away from gazing at the Keeper with the commotion but still stood in place, calmly gazing out at the world. 

Looking over at Rachel with raised eyebrows, Claire saw her hold up a snowball and quickly packed a couple for herself. A minute later, they exchanged looks and took aim.

All at once two balls of snow came flying out of the trees followed quickly by two more and then by two storming woman in their quake. The balls of snow each hit their marks straight on, knocking both men back with the unexpected assault.

Claire was upon Arnaud within seconds, kicking and punching for all she was worth until Arnaud was laying in the snow in a daze with pieces of his mask torn off. Rachel had taken on the startled Chrysalis by expertly grabbing his gun and whipping it up to strike him in the face. He crumpled in an instant. She didn't wait for anything else and raced for the Bronco, getting in and checking the visor for keys. There wasn't any, but it didn't matter. With another minute she had the panel open and was working with the wires.

Claire raced up to Darien, grabbing on of his hands and tugging him towards the car. He didn't move, didn't even budge but continued to gaze at her as if he wasn't sure how to respond to her tugging. "Damn it Darien, come on!" Claire pleaded.

"Claire we don't have time for this!" Rachel yelled back as the engine roared to life. Both of the men were coming to their senses and trying to get to their feet.

"Darien!" Claire loudly complained, then trying a different approach went around and pushed him, determined to pick him up and carry him if she had to, but he moved, finally, walking where she pushed and naturally getting into the vehicle as she shoved him in that direction. Claire got the door closed and locked right before the Chrysalis agent could get to it. "Let's go!" She yelled up front.

"Whoa!"

Claire looked up and saw that Arnaud was also trying to get in, pounding at the window and going for what was probably his gun. Half his face was hanging like the loose skin it really was. Rachel was staring at him in shock. Thinking quickly, Claire leaned up and hit the horn, as much to distract Arnaud as to bring Rachel back to her senses and maybe the noise would even help distract Alex's pursuers.

The trick seemed to work, and in the next instant Rachel was slamming the vehicle into reverse and pulling out of there. The two men were running for the other vehicle as Rachel spun the car in a 180 to correct their position. "Shoot their tires out!"

"What?" Then Rachel motioned to the semi-automatic and Claire understood. She took the gun and rolling down her window shot back at the pursuing vehicle. Under the ruin of Claire's fire, the front tires burst sending the car swerving out of control till if finally stopped up against the trunk of a tree.

Grinning, Claire leaned back in, but her smile disappeared when she met Darien's silent watchful gaze. Picking Alex up was much easier, she was exactly where she was supposed to be and while Claire provided cover fire Alex jumped into the back of the Bronco and they once again took off. 

Alex was out of breath and had a hand over her side but asked once they were back on the road, "How is he?" Nodding to Darien who hadn't yet said a word to anyone.

"Alive," The Keeper curtly answered then climbed over the seat to get to Alex, scowling as she examined under protest Alex's bullet wound from before. "It opened up. I think I'm going to have to stitch it after all."

"Excuse me," Rachel called back. "But I 'need to know' something here. Who are you people? What on earth has my brother gotten mixed up in this time and what on earth was wrong with that guy back there, that guy Arnaud?" She asked, pulling the name out of memory.

"Invisible," came the mumbled reply.

They all looked at Darien in surprise, but he didn't say anything else, his face was as still as it had been before. Alex glanced at Claire who looked worried but nodded back. "I think we're going to need a safe place for the night."

Hobbes paced his 'room' like an animal who'd been pent up for far too long, his limp now barely discernable in his agitation. He'd been there for over a day, they'd doused him with pain killers, done surgery and patched up his leg, fed him, clothed him, nice expensive clothes, too -gave him a cozy bed to sleep in and they had yet to ask his name let alone interrogate him! What was wrong with these people, he demanded to himself. Don't they know how to properly keep a prisoner?!. Scowling, he pulled out his pills and swallowed two. He was getting nowhere here, and he needed to find out what on Earth happened to Fawkes!

Hobbes knocked on his locked door, yelling, "Open up!"

The door opened and one of his two guards smiled in at him asking pleasantly, "What can we do for you Agent Hobbes?"

"I want to know why I'm here. I want to talk to whoever's in charge! Do you realize-"

The guard cut him off with a wave of his hand and yet another polite smile. "I'm truly sorry, but They're a bit busy right now. I'm sure They'll be more than willing to talk to you as soon as they can." Hobbes scowled, trying to keep his sour disposition but having trouble in the face of their insistent cheeriness. The hallway beyond was devoid of people, the interior much like a cozy office building with the occasional hung painting and potted plant to give it a semblance of life. If it weren't for the fact that despite their persistent helpfulness his guards still held their weapons at ready, a bruise on his cheek as proof, he'd once again try for a break out of this surreal world. Sighing under his breath, Hobbes met the bright eyes of the young guards.

"Is there anything else?" They offered kindly. "Some coffee? The brew's not too bad tonight."

"No. Thanks," Hobbes grumbled.

"An extra pillow. Are you tired?"

"I have a book in my locker you might like," The other guard added far too eagerly.

"No!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Just then Hobbes saw Rena and Pierre turn the corner. Gratefully, they were headed right for him.

"Agent Hobbes would you follow us, please?" Pierre asked studiously. 

"Do I have a choice?" Hobbes growled out. The phase just came natural to him he couldn't help it.

Pierre's eyebrows rose in surprise and he said quite simply, "You can stay in your room another night if you want to."

"No no, I'm coming," Hobbes quickly amended hopping out of his 'comfy' confines. Pierre and Rena lead him through the network of halls, -Hobbes almost stopped when they passed the tanks of brightly colored fish, the guards following at a discreet distance.

"You'll be relieved to know your partner Agent Monroe is alive." Pierre told him as they walked.

"Of coarse she is!" Bobby gruffly stated. "It takes more than a gunshot to kill one of us, my friend!" Though inside he was taking that much needed breath of relief.

Eyebrow raising once again, Pierre murmured, "Whatever."

Then Rena picked up the conversation looking a little more kindly at Hobbes. "We also know she and your friends were able to liberate Agent Fawkes from Chrysalis. They seem to be very resourceful."

Hobbes frowned, questioning suspiciously, "How do you know all this?"

"I think They'd be the best to answer that question," Pierre replied as they stepped through the doors of an extremely high tech looking lab. Hobbes wanted to whistle at the sheer extent of the place, it rose up at least four levels, and looked pretty sci-fiish to him. A mix between something out of the X-Files, and the engine room of Enterprise. Complete with the whole glowing tubes and everything!

Eight pairs of eyes turned to look brightly at him, their glasses and lab coats identifying them as scientists. Insane or mad scientists no doubt, Hobbes was sure. They all excitedly came down to meet him, some from the various levels of catwalks. "Agent Hobbes!"

Hobbes heard the lock of the door behind him and spun around, for the first time realizing he'd been left alone with these crazy science guys! He grabbed for the handle, but it was locked, and turning back around made ready to defend himself, growling out. "Alright, one step closer and the first one gets it!"

The scientists clustered around him but left a good distance between. "Agent Hobbes, we have so many questions for you!" Beady Eyes stated with a broad smile.

"I knew it!" Bobby proclaimed, loosening his stance to fight, but none of them was moving any closer.

Then Pointy Nose said, still consumed with excitement. "You don't understand. We don't want to hurt you. We just want to know how you're feeling?" All the scientists nodded eagerly.

"Excuse me?!" 

"Your leg," Baldy returned. "How does it feel?" Then they all started talking, the conversation turning from one scientist to the next with barely a second's pause.

"We weren't sure it was going to work-"

"We've never had the opportunity to work on wounds caused outside the lab before-"

"Especially on something as messy as a gun shot-"

"Mind you the procedure is sound-"

"In theory." Large Ears chortled and they all joined in the laughter briefly before picking up the conversation once more.

"It's not that it's really un-kosher or anything-"

"It's a lot like growing a new ear-"

"They're so behind, tsk tsk.-"

"More like increasing the growth of the tissue already there-"

"Wait, wait!" Hobbes finally interrupted, trying to take in everything they just said. They waited patiently, smiles plaster on all of them. "Who are you people?!" Hobbes exclaimed in exasperation.

Pointy Nose just laughed, saying, "That's not important. How does you leg feel?"

"Fine," Hobbes grumbled out.

"Any sharp pains?" Another one asked.

"Some. Nothing serious." The leg wasn't hurting really, much as he knew it should, but he 'was' starting to get a headache. "I was told you'd be able to tell me how you all know so much about what's going on." He thought he might as well try and get something out of this, though he didn't really expect them to tell him. Au contraire!

"The pigeons!" Red Beard exclaimed, and their eyes all lit up with even more excitement then they had had when he entered the room. From that point on, Bobby couldn't get them to shut up once as they pulled him happily about their lab explaining all the scientific accomplishes they'd had so far. It was worse then trying to understand one of the Keepers explanations. And there were eight of them! By the end of the night he was ready to talk, except, no one asked him a question.

"Well? How is he?" Rachel asked looking on their new 'patient' with an increasing frown. She'd been promised an explanation of things once Claire had finished her examination of Darien. 

"Physically, he's fine. But..." Claire made a sound of discouragement. "I need to get my gear from the car." She stood and left in a hurry.

Rachel continued frowning. Darien turned slowly to look up at her, his eyes focusing on her yet not focusing all at the same time. She was standing in her kitchen, having grudgingly taken them to her home after their escape. Darien was on one of the adjacent dining room's chairs, looking for all his part like a lost child. Rachel sighed, murmuring, "Don't worry Fawkes, your friends will set you right."

Jason came running in then, only half out of his snow suit and trailing slush all the way from the front door.

"Jason, you're supposed to be packing a bag for tonight," Rachel told him sternly.

"I am mom. I had to get sometin," Jason told her by way of excuse and ran up to Darien excitedly, but he stopped when Darien didn't say anything. They stared at each other for a good minute. "Hey Uncle Darien," Jason said a bit hesitantly. And with no further response waved one of his little hands in front of Darien's eyes, looking intently at Darien's face for a reaction. Sighing heavily, Jason turned to his mother and asked, "When's Gampa coming back?"

"If you go up and get your bag ready so Dan can take you into the city tonight, then I'm sure by the time you get back your ga- uncle will be here as well." She began to come around the counter to encourage him on his way.

Before he left, Jason threw his arms around the still Darien, hugging tightly, and whispered in his ear, "Take care of Uncle Bobby for me!" Then he was retreating from the room right as Dan and Alex came in looking for him.

Once Rachel was sure her son was heading in the right direction, she turned to Dan. "Don't bring him back until I call."

"Rach, you know this is-" Dan began hesitantly.

"The CIA wants no part of this, do they?" She asked stubbornly. 

"No." It was Alex who answered. "I got a call through. We'll have some of our own men here sometime tomorrow."

Rachel nodded, and stated determined, "Just keep Jason safe, Dan. Away from all this. As a favor for me."

"Sure thing Rach." He turned to go help Jason pack as Claire came back in, a large tote bag in hand.

Setting the bag on the table, she proceeded to pull out a small microscope and countless other instruments, then turned to Darien and prepped his arm to pull some blood.

"Are you going to give him a shot?" Alex asked, avoiding any obvious key words as she and Rachel drew closer.

The Keeper shook her head, saying, "No, it's too dangerous until I know what drug this is." She carefully filled a vial with the thick red life giving substance and put a Band-Aid over the insertion point. 

"So, are you guys going to tell me what's going on now?" Rachel inquired.

Darien mutely turned and looked up at her, holding up the arm that had just donated blood. Quicksilver traced its way down till the arm itself disappeared. Rachel gasped in surprise.

Claire frowned and mumbled, "Well, that's one way to begin." 

Darien turned and looked at her, his eyes round and soulful as the quicksilver shed, then, stated quietly, "Keeper."

...Eight Wacky Scientists  
Seven Pigeons Watching  
Six Oatmeal Cookies  
Five Chrysali  
Four Balls of Snow  
Three Missing Disks  
Two Foreign Spies  
And Arnaud in a Telephone Booth


	9. Ninth Day of Christmas

On the Ninth Day of Christmas, my I-Man gave to me...

Alex let out an unconscious groan as she rolled over onto her injured side. Thankfully, it was enough of a shock to wake her from the disturbing images that haunted her dreams. Blinking furiously to push back tears and sleep, she carefully twisted back to her original position, loosening the tight pressure on her side. Looking around, it took a moment for her to remember where she was. A glance at the clock told her she'd only slept an hour admist the hours of restless turning, but when she closed her eyes to return to her nightmares, she knew it wasn't going to happen.

With a tired yawn, Alex pushed back the covers of the warm bed and grabbing a nearby sweater slowly made her way out into the hall. It felt as cold and quiet as a morgue. A reminiscent shadow of her dream. With a small shudder, she quickly headed downstairs. There was still an hour before dawn, but there was no sense in disturbing anyone else from their much needed sleep.

If she's been expecting someone else was up she might have not been so startled at the sight that greeted her when she stepped into kitchen. "Darien!"

He stood staring at her like a deer caught in the headlights. Half eaten and still raised to his mouth was an oatmeal cookie, another five clutched tight enough in his other hands that they were beginning to crumble. After a moment he began chewing again, quickly consuming the sugary morsels. 

Alex shook her head trying to figure out how he got downstairs, Rachel was supposed to be watching him and he was supposed to be sleeping. She flipped on the light, intent on leading the wayward man back to his bed, but then she noticed the table, covered to its edges with scientific objects, and the Keeper, who's head was half nestled in her arms as she slept half on her work.

"Claire. Keeper!" Alex called, and Claire woke with a start, her pencil falling with a clatter back to the table as she jerked up. "Claire, you alright?" Alex asked, only the slightest trace of concern showing through her gruff voice. She way too tired for this.

"What? Yes." Claire answered drowsily, then asked confused, "What's Darien doing down here? He's supposed to be sleeping."

"So are you," Alex reminded her and stepping forward tugged on Darien's arm to lead him back upstairs, but to her surprised he jerked back. Alarm flashed across his face, but it returned to normal in the next second as he turned away, walking behind the counter to the fridge. He pulled it open scanning the contents with uninterested eyes, then aimlessly began walking about as he proceeded to take every lid off every jar in sight. 

The Keeper was on her feet in an instant, motioning to Alex to stray in the doorway in case Darien tried leaving. Claire carefully approached the man who for all appearances was quite consumed with the breadless toaster and completely ignored any other occupant in the room. "Darien?" She questioned softly.

Darien didn't look up but continued pushing and lifting the lever on the toaster. "Keeper," he responded absently as if it were a perfectly good answer to her question.

"Darien, do you know where you are?" The Keeper asked carefully.

At last Darien turned, his hands attracted by something else, as he answered, "Hobbes' sister's." He opened the cupboard and almost methodically began taking everything out, placing the objects on the counter, sometimes looking at something with a bit deeper curiosity.

Stepping up to the counter, Claire tried to reach out to him, "Darien?" but he instinctually backed away from her hand, then just moved to a different cupboard a bit further away.

"What's wrong with him Claire?" Alex demanded, truly worried now. Compared to the blank eyed stair routine yesterday he was far more animate, but seeing him like this, she wasn't sure which was worse. 

"Well, I was able to run some tests with what I have here, I can't be sure of coarse, but I think the drug is running its coarse. I think it's designed to prohibit emotion, similar to the way a build up of quicksilver prohibits the higher brain functions, only this is in a completely different area of the brain, and there's a few flaws in the design, obviously. I don't think it suppressed any emotions at all, I think he just can't release them, and right now as the drug is wearing thin his mind's a mess of information that he can't quite fully process."

"Which means what?"

"I means," Rachel said coming up behind Alex. "That he's going to be nothing but a menace!" She frowned as she looked in at her disheveled kitchen. Darien was quickly running out of things to take out of the cupboards, cans and boxes covered the counter and the pots and pans were piled high on the stove. 

"Well, yes, that might be one of the side effects." Claire replied ruefully, also frowning.

"Will there be any permanent damage?" Alex questioned. 

Claire slowly shook her head. "I don't think so. But to be safe I'll have to wait till it completely runs its coarse before I give him his shot."

"Shot?" Rachel asked, suspicion coloring her voice. "For what, the gland?" But she didn't get an answer as Darien began idly turning the knobs on the stove.

"Darien!" Alex complained, jumping forward to push him away and turn them back before they could start a fire. Darien had instantly jerked away from her touch, and with her still so close he stood as if unable to move further, his body shaking from something other than the cold.

With a growl of frustration, Alex emphatically stated. "It's me Fawkes, Alex."

"Alex," he repeated, his breathing easing a bit and the shaking subsiding as he added, "Monroe." 

Claire came up beside him, asking quietly, "Do you know who I am?"

Darien looked at her. "Claire. Keeper. The." He looked over at Rachel. "Rachel. Hobbes." Then he looked around him at the cans and started naming then by contents. "Green beans, chili, apricot halves..."

Alex felt her exhaustion creep in that much further. She asked, "How long is this going to last?"

"Who knows," Claire responded more intent in watching her kept as he moved past them, now naming everything in sight, but in Latin. She had no idea he knew Latin. The Keeper shook her head trying to clear the sleep away. "At most a day, the drug should be out of his system by then."

"Great," Rachel grumbled from the doorway.

The rest of then didn't get any more sleep as they spent their time just trying to keep their charge out of trouble. At least he wasn't reacting to their touch any more, but neither was he willing to sit still, even when they occupied his hands with various objects. Rachel had offered to tie him down, but Claire was adamant in her protest and the idea was quickly dropped.

Not long after, a steady trail of snow began to fall, the flakes growing heavier and the ground thicker with the cold white substance as the day dawned. There wasn't enough wind to declare it a blizzard, but the sheer amount of snow falling would makes things that much harder.

None of them wanted to venture out into the winter wonderland, but the Agency members were worried about their missing coworker and Rachel was growing ever persistent that they go brake her brother out.

"I still think we should leave him," Rachel stated referring to Darien. Between the three of them they had almost managed to get Darien dressed in suitable outside clothes. She deftly tied his boot, and slapped at his hand as it reached for the laces.

"No." Darien protested, reaching for the laces once again, but suddenly found his hands filled as Alex deposited a nearby umbrella in them. It worked to hold his attention long enough for Rachel to tie the other boot, but knocked both women back as he opened the umbrella in their faces, throwing himself off balance as well.

Claire was behind him and firmly took the umbrella away. He made sounds of protest, but his attention was once again diverted and with nimble fingers he'd undone Alex's boots. "We can't leave him alone, and I don't trust anyone else," Claire stated with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. 

Alex grunted, leaning over to retire her boot for the third time that morning. "Is he going to remember any of this later? Because I'm seriously thinking of knocking him out."

"Alex! You can't-" Claire began angrily, but Rachel suddenly waived them all quiet. 

"What was that?"

Monroe, still annoyed from the shoelaces was about to tell the girl she was as paranoid as her brother, but then she heard it too. A soft noise at the side of the house. They all sat frozen, listening for something more to tell them if it was just an animal or something else. All, except that is, for Darien. Oblivious to the need for silence, he pulled himself to his feet and headed directly for the door. 

"Wait! Darien!" The three females hissed reaching out to pull him back but he was a second quicker and had the door open before they could stop him. Between the falling clumps of snow, they could see the shadows of men ahead of them, and the sound of a couple bullets rang out to greet them. All three females instinctually dove aside for cover, but Darien just continued walking out into the snow.

"Dame it!" Alex bit out, pulling out her gun as she ran outside after him, shooting blindly towards the shadows to force them back. She could see Darien walking to the edge of the clearing, he'd disappear inside the trees in a few more seconds. She sprinted to catch up but her attention had been so focused on keeping track of Darien that she hadn't noticed the bits of snow freezing to the air in front of her till she ran right into it. An invisible fist connected with her jaw, the sudden force knocking her back onto the growing bank of snow.

Monroe blinked back the sting of tears, and looked up, but through her cloudy vision it was harder to make out exactly where Arnaud was. Then, suddenly, he let out an angry cry when two balls of snow struck him chest and head, marking his spot as well as momentarily blinding him. Alex looked quickly behind her at Claire and Rachel even as they threw another two balls of the hard packed white stuff, forcing the Swiss-German to curse and stumble off balanced.

In the next instant gunfire opened up around them and Claire and Rachel were forced to back around the corner. Alex fried most of what was left of her clip into the forest where she knew the Chrysali were hidden and kicked up at the figure she could now see.

Arnaud grunted with pain and fell heavily into the snow, indenting it with his body. Alex was on him the next instant. They didn't have the firepower to take on all of them, but if she could kill Arnaud for Fawkes, she would.

More gunfire distracted her, and Arnaud pushed her off, scrambling to his feet, but before he could get too far, Rachel had come from behind the other corner of the house and tackled him to the ground again. "Damn he's cold!" She bit out but punched at the place where his head should be and was gratified as the invisible body in her hands slumped to unconsciousness. 

A bit confused, Alex rolled to her feet. Her face screamed bloody murder and she rose a hand to determine exactly why, but Claire pushed it back down again, joining them. "Stop that," The woman easily chastised, then took Alex's chin in her hand turning it this way and that like someone might with a child, to see if there was any damage to the frostbitten areas. 

Annoyed, Alex mumbled, "What happened?" They could still hear the exchange of gunfire, but it was all on the other side of the house and after a few more minutes finally broke off.

"Sounds like back up arrived," The Keeper replied, then told her, "Nothing's damaged, don't touch it!"

Alex was quick to comply but looking around at the silent forest regretfully told them, "Darien's gone. Who knows where he'll head in his state."

"We need to find Darien."

"No." They both looked sharply at Rachel. She was kneeling in the snow, staring at Arnaud as he slowly appeared in the form of freezing snow crystals. "I don't care what you do, but the QFM want one of these glands, right? Then I'm giving them a gland." She looked up at them, her eyes fueled with anger. "I'm getting my brother back!"

Just then someone came around the corner, but Alex quickly recognized the face and lowered her gun. "Jake, who's with you?"

"Ah, Jack, Jeff, Jim, and ah...well, Jed's coming," He replied, eyes widening slightly as he realized there was an invisible person under the forming snowman on the ground. 

"That's it?" Alex complained, but Claire quickly questioned, "What about Chrysalis?"

Jake shook his head, "They retreated, but I doubt they'll stay gone for long."

The woman quickly agreed and commissioning Jake's help carried their invisible prisoner to meet with the others.

The personal the Agency sent were younger than Alex would have liked, but they seemed to handle themselves well enough. Claire had wanted to go after Fawkes now before he got too far, but it already seemed like an underestimated task and Rachel wouldn't be swayed into waiting any longer. They settled on sending just one agent to try and follow the slim trail.

"Well, if we wait for Jed, he's got..." Jeff trailed off as a black van pulled into the driveway. A substantial amount of barking was coming with within. 

"What the hell?" Alex asked, walking up to the side door as it parked. 

Jed was stepping out from the driver's side a look of alarm on his face as he saw Monroe reach for the handle. "No, wait!" But it was already too late, and as the door cracked open, it suddenly slid the entire way and a pile of loose dogs of various sizes came pouring out. Nine of them in total, all excitedly barking over each other and racing around in circles as their feet. 

"What is this?!" She didn't really get an answer as the dogs bound around excitedly trying to jump on people till quite suddenly they took off into the trees like a herd of deer. They could hear the echoes of the dogs' barking for several minutes, the whole time getting further and further away.

Joe had tried calling the dogs back, but none of them came, and Claire looked at the forlorn agent saying drolly, "Let me guess. The Official's definition of back up?"

"Well, they're not fully trained yet," Jed told her ruefully.

Thirty minutes later, Arnaud was awake and in a slight panic as Rachel pinned him inside the telephone booth at the FQM meet spot. "You will dial the number and we will talk to them," Rachel stated, emphasizing each 'will' by further pressing the gun against Arnaud's invisible head.

"You're crazy!" Arnaud bit out. They'd put a coat on him and right now, Rachel was using it to hold him against the inside wall tight enough that he could feel the air literally being pushed out of him. The snow still crystallized to him was quickly flaking off in his struggles to be free of her. She didn't care and just pressed harder, then kneed him hard in the stomach.

"Ya, so?" Rachel growled out, then repeated. "Put in the code."

Arnaud murmured something unintelligible, but a moment later, the buttons on the phone depressed.

Alex watched from outside with some admiration, reminded once again of the passion she'd seen in Hobbes on the rare occasions, usually while being protective of Claire for some reason or another. 

"We should have stayed to look for Darien," Claire suddenly said from beside her. Alex looked at her, feeling not so different. Claire glanced over at the woman in guilt and sighed, answering herself. "But Rachel would get herself killed on her own. And Bobby..."

"They're both important," Alex stated, fully understanding Claire's internal argument. Then added for both their sakes, "I'm sure Darien couldn't have traveled far, there's a chance Jeff might find him before we get back."

"A chance," Claire murmured, her eyes scanning the surrounding edges as if miraculously their missing companions would show. She frowned. Alex turned to follow her gaze, wondering if the five Chrysali might have tracked them here. Off to the side within the trees were seven pairs of beady black eyes watching them. It was the stupid pigeons, she realized with a start. Those same pigeons that had follow her and Bobby, she'd swear it!

"Alex," Claire murmured, surprise lighting her voice.

"Ya?"

"Those pigeons. They all have the exact same coloring on them."

Alex had to suppress her shiver. Claire was right. She didn't know why she hadn't noticed it before. Frowning with suspicion, she picked up a rock and tossed it at the offending poultry. They scattered instantly, but settled not so far away, just simply a little more out of projectile range.

Hobbes had his arms hugged tightly around himself for warmth. It had gotten a lot colder out and the falling snow was a deluge of wetness that stuck to anything and everything. 

Rena glanced at him and politely inquired if he wanted to go back inside, but Hobbes shook his head. "It's not that cold." Then he quickly suppressed the shiver. He really shouldn't be this cold, he realized, but put it off, telling himself stubbornly that it'd pass. Rena frowned in concern but didn't say anything and continued the tour. 

When they'd offered to show him around the compound to give him a chance to stretch his legs, Bobby had jumped at the chance. Not only was he tired of the confines of his room, but he wanted to get a layout of the place and hopefully pick up more information. He almost shuddered again, but not from the cold. Last night had been 'too' much information! Still, he had managed to sort a bit of it out from their jumbled science jargon. 

Most of the layout had been easy to memorize. It'd been set up quite logically in fact, not something you find every day. The court where they were now was bordered by a stone wall, the outside of which was layered with grounding and trees to make it look like the compound was quite literally part of the surrounding mountain while providing cover from the ferocity of nature. Beyond that, Bobby knew was the perimeter, the real security, but it was deftly hidden within the trees so you wouldn't expect it till you'd stumbled across it, if you made it that far. He hoped coming from inside the compound would give him the slight edge of surprise, he's find out soon enough. He didn't plan to stay here much longer.

Rena was explaining some of the surrounding foliage to a patiently listening Hobbes when Pierre came running up. "Rena." He stated, then motioned to the two watching guards with a nod of his head to indicate the tour was over and Hobbes was to be escorted back to his room.

"What's going on?" Bobby immediately questioned, easily sensing the tension and excitement in Pierre's voice. 

The Frenchman gave Hobbes a sidelong look then changed his mind and motioned now for Hobbes and Rena to both follow him. "Our scopes have picked up something interesting, and there's a woman on the phone who claims she has a gland for trade. She wants to trade it for you," He said nodding briefly to Hobbes.

The small hairs on the back of Hobbes' neck rose in alarm. Yet the information Pierre just gave didn't quite make sense, at least not until Hobbes got a good look of who was on their monitors. "Rachel!" He said in surprise before he realized it. She looked severely pissed off, and was holding a gun looking more than ready to use it. That was something Bobby had never thought he'd ever see again.

"Ah...your sister!" Pointy Nose stated grinning from the revelation.

Regrettably, Pierre had led them into the main lab where the eight scientists were conversing quite excitedly around the monitors. There were several monitors, all showing slightly different pictures, the screens flickering slightly, and the view shifting from time to time, sometimes more swiftly and at radical angles than Hobbes thought possible for a camera to move. 

"But your partner's-" Baldy began.

"No where in sight, how amusing," Red Beard finished.

"Of coarse not!" Hobbes exclaimed, to think his sister would trade Fawkes for him...while, maybe not so unrealistic a thought, but he'd never do it, and she knew that. Hobbes just hoped whereever Fawkes was that he was safe. Bobby motioned to the frame that showed the telephone booth the clearest. "She's talking about Arnaud, he's in the jacket, ya know?"

All 10 Canadian's leaned in staring at the screen in amazement as if they'd put serious thought towards Rachel threatening a jacket and only just now thought there was someone in it. Bobby frowned even more confused by these people, they were after the gland, were they not? Then Lazy Eye suddenly exclaimed, "Invisibility! I was right!"

"But all our tests proved otherwise," Large Ears murmured, then eerily all eight scientists laughed.

"I'd suppose it'd have to produce a type of liquid-" Button Nose began still chuckling.

"Yes, something to coat the person-"

"And bend the light around them-"

"Can probably coat other objects as well," Beady Eyes added and once again the scientists laughed with a hearty nature.

Bobby Hobbes shivered, then demanded irrationally, "You mean you guys didn't even know?! What the Hell did you want the gland for then?"

They looked at him in surprised, a small frown appearing on Thin Lips' face as he said, "We explained it yesterday, weren't you listening?" All the scientists suddenly looked like overgrown children as they inherited small looks of injured pride.

Hobbes squired, visibly flinching, and with a look of pain hesitantly replied, "Explain it again...please?"

Like the flip of a coin they were more then willing to oblige, but to Hobbes' great relief Pierre raised a hand forestalling them and explained it himself. "The little information we had on the gland suggested that it had more to do with brain activity. Apparently we were wrong, but in any case, They've discovered that the properties in the make up of the gland allowed for certain, control, in multi-tasking and an output of brain activity that could be picked up by radio wave."

There was a small pause as Bobby sorted that out, it still didn't make much sense, yet every time one of the scientists opened his mouth to say something Pierre would just raise a hand and continued on. "That combined with the limited cloning technology we've improved on, we found a way to combine the two. The pigeons for example, are cloned, but without the gland makeup we inserted in them would just be as good as a corpse, the original pigeon now controls the rest and we can read it's brain activities in such a way to produce an image. They're the perfect spies."

This time Pointy Nose did interrupt, an excited gleam in his eyes. "It's far from perfect, but we've already got the clones in status for the new subject-"

"They should be ready by noon tomorrow-"

"But they'll be no good if we can't link to the subject at that point-"

"Still, with a real gland, the biosynthetic material should take as if it's-"

"Part of itself, yes, yes-"

This time Bobby interrupted, angrily stating, "You're talking about Fawkes aren't you!"

They seemed hesitant to answer, but Rena caught all of their attentions saying quietly, "Looks like a fight's breaking out." On the screens, a few of the angles, the pigeons, drastically moved, but settled down again, and they could see the fire fight that broke out around the telephone booth. Bobby tensed, worried as he watched his sister struggle with her captive in the surprise of the moment. Watched as Arnaud succeeded in getting away, the five Chrysali showering the Agency people with bullets, providing the Swiss Bastard cover. But he didn't bother holding back the small sigh of relief as he watched Rachel skid back to the others, safely finding cover. Then he almost grinned as he spotted Claire among the Agency ranks but frowned instead.

Rena didn't help the situation as she made the comment, "Agent Fawkes doesn't seem to be among either party. I think they lost him."

Darien stared numbly at his hands. His head throbbed with one of the worst headaches he'd ever had, it was ten times worse than any hangover and marginally as bad as the QSM attacks, except those only lasted a few minutes. This wasn't giving any indication of fading any time soon.

He was sitting on a snow-covered log with his sore head resting in his hands and his elbows propped on his knees. Around him the heavily falling snow was quickly adding inches of the insidious substance to the ground, effectively covering any traces of where he might have come from. Darien looked up and around the white-coated forest with chilled and dry eyes, a lost expression on his face. "How on Earth did I get here?" He mumbled softly. He tried to remember, vague memories surfacing, but it hurt to try and make any sense of them.

He was in that state, perfectly content to let himself just sit and freeze there when the sharp sounds of barking pierced his eardrums, driving the headache home. Groaning, his frozen hands moved to cover his defenseless ears, vainly wishing the noise would stop. Unfortunately, it only got closer.

Squinting, he peered forebodingly in the direction the sharp barking was coming from. A minute later dogs piled out of the trees to crowd around him, a couple howling in their joy of a successful find. Darien felt like he was going to die and wished the dogs would just hurry it up and kill him already.

Yet, if he'd been able to think straight he would have realized that none of the canines were growling at him as he expected, in fact they seemed quite happy. All Darien could register was the pain all their barking was causing and realizing they weren't doing anything more, he waved at them in vain. "Go away! Leave me alone!" He wined, lacking the strength to do much more. 

The dogs thought it was an invite to play and tried to catch and lick his waving hands, then they just went for the face. "Argh!" Darien stood up trying to get away, but he soon realized his feet wouldn't hold him and instead he fell forward into the pile of dogs. They continued licking at his face even as he lay there in the snow, too tired and confused to want to move.

If the dogs wont do it, then maybe the cold will, Darien glumly thought to himself, and exhausted fell into a half-sleep, only partially aware of the blanket of warmth that contentedly settled in around him. It was a literal dog pile.

...Nine Dogs a Running  
Eight Wacky Scientists  
Seven Pigeons Watching  
Six Oatmeal Cookies  
Five Chrysali  
Four Balls of Snow  
Three Missing Disks  
Two Foreign Spies  
And Arnaud in a Telephone Booth


	10. Tenth Day of Christmas

On the Tenth Day of Christmas, my I-Man gave to me...

Bobby waited for the sun to begin its approach before he made his escape. He hoped the conflux of day and night would allow him to more easily slip out within the shadows and with luck get past the perimeter. Working as quickly and quietly as possible he balanced himself on the bedpost, his fingers just reaching the ceiling, enough that he could shift back the ceiling tile. Above him loomed a couple feet of space to allow for proper ventilation to be laid within a compound of this magnitude. 

Taking a deep breath, he jumped from his precarious perch and caught the support stud, agilely pulling himself up and out of sight. He hadn't bothered to unhook the camera in his room, knowing they'd notice a screen full of static much faster than they would a minute of movement. Nobody keeps Bobby Hobbes captive for long! Bobby thought to himself with a smirk, but he'd still have to hurry if he was going to get very far. 

It was a tight squeeze moving within the two feet of space the adjoining ceilings provided. Gratefully, one of the support studs seemed to follow the vent shaft, so he balanced himself between the two, careful not to touch the flimsy ceiling and so to speak slunk his way down. 

After ten minutes of shifting and about six rooms further, Bobby was sincerely surprised that no one had raised an alarm yet. They're probably snoozing, he thought smugly, but wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth and quickly looked around for a good place to vacate. 

There weren't any noises coming from the room below him, and when Bobby carefully lifted a ceiling panel to took a look, he was pleased to find it was someone's office and currently unoccupied. A moment later he was smoothly dropping back to solid ground. With a rueful look up to where he'd just come from, Hobbes smirked and murmured, "There's nowhere Bobby Hobbes can't go, my friend!"

Hobbes was about to make for the door when he noticed the charger stacked full of radios on the nearby cabinet. They were like none he'd ever seen before, a self made model he guessed, and worked within the black out, Hobbes suddenly realized as one crackled to life. Picking it up, Hobbes turned in over in his hand. The volume had been left on, but it was encrypted and nothing but unintelligent noises issued forth. 

Bobby quickly began checking them all, realizing with each burst of static that chances were good his escape had been discovered. Yet, if he could find...as he flipped the volume switch on the last one, words came through instead of just noise. 

"-no sir, adjacent rooms are empty."

"Continue searching each room anyway. Perimeter is on alert in case he already got that far." The second voice was Pierre's, Bobby was sure of it.

"Oh crap!" Hobbes quietly exclaimed and tucking the radio to his belt moved to peek out of the room. Just down the hall he could see his guards as they opened the doors and checked the rooms further down. He waited till they'd stepped just out of sight before slipping out of the office, racing unnoticed down the hall. 

Remembering exactly where everything was from the tour the day before, it didn't take much effort on Bobby's part to get to an exit while avoiding any people he passed along the way. Reaching the side of the court where he knew the least people would be, he looked up the side of the wall then just slipped over it as a cat might leap agilely out of sight with the aid of a slightly protruding rock halfway up. The hardest part would be getting through the perimeter, Bobby thought sourly as he quickly entered the sounding forest.

The sun was now beginning its crawl up through the trees as Hobbes carefully moved from one shadow to the next. He didn't want to hurry through this, or he was liable to get himself killed. The snow unfortunately had stopped falling. Bobby would have liked the added element of cover, but in many ways, he was glad at the same time. For as the cold wind struck his face, his body instantly reacted, as if he'd been outside in the cold the entire night. It didn't make much sense, the jacket he had was thin, sure, but it still should have provided more heat than he was currently feeling. 

Pushing it out of his mind, Bobby forced himself to focus on the task at hand. For this, Hobbes had turned the radio off, and now gazed about studying the other shadows in the trees. "There you are, my friend," Bobby murmured under his breath as he noticed one shadow turn against the wind. 

Moving quietly, Bobby shifted his way through the lining foliage with a stealth and grace most wouldn't expect. He had just reached the electric wires that signified the edge of the perimeter when his silent escape was finally interrupted.

It was to both their surprise as Bobby stepped around a low bush and suddenly, quite accidentally really, stepped on the hidden man beneath. Each fell back, too startled to take action right away, but Bobby recovered the quickest and before the guy could call an alarm grabbed his gun and jerked it up, ramming it squarely into his chin. 

He grunted, but his grip on the gun didn't lessen, so instead, Bobby twisted, pushing his shoulder into the guy's mouth to keep him as quiet as possible while they wrestled in the snow fighting for possession of the gun. It was Bobby's sheer determination, and a lucky slip of the hand, that jerked his elbow into the guy's temple and won out in the end.

For a moment Bobby just laid there atop the unconscious guard, panting for breath and suppressing the on-going shivers that wracked his frame. Why was he so cold? He sighed in the silence of the snow with exasperation, but once again just pushed the thought away. Hobbes rolled away from the prone guard, keeping low and out of sight. He knew from sliding through these guys that the next guard down wouldn't be that far away and if their skirmish had gone unnoticed, it'd be a miracle. 

Miracles that day seemed to come in twos, for there was no sound from down the line of trees, and other than taking the gun and a knife from the guard's possession, Hobbes also found a little black book full of key codes. Apparently the radios weren't used only for communication. 

Smiling widely with his new found hope, Bobby easily jumped the electric fence with the aid of a tree and was soon making his way in the direction the beep from his reset radio indicated. The codebook had marked it as tracking mobile scopes, but Bobby was almost certain they were talking about the pigeons. And the pigeons he knew were looking for his partner. He just needed to get there before anyone else did. 

Darien came to beneath a warm mat of...fur? He could feel the cold ground beneath him, but the heat that radiated around him more than made up for it, although it was hard to breath and every breath felt strained and came with a clump of hair that threatened to choke him. Not to mention the weight pressing down on his chest, he thought miserably. Darien tried to shift in this new foreign world, soon discovering movement was near impossible.

Yet as his system slowly began to wake, his mind also began to stir to some semblance of logic. The pounding from the day before had finally receded to a light ache, more like the ache caused by dehydration, which he didn't doubt might be a factor in his new condition. Memories, too, flooded back into place, although they didn't help explain his current situation. That is, until he remembered the dogs.

Involuntarily, Darien groaned. There were a few undeniably canine sounds in response and all at once the warm mass departed and Darien found he could once again move, if stiffly.

The dogs swarmed dizzyingly about him, far too excited for Darien's liking. He groaned again, sitting carefully up and drawing his knees to him. Cold noses and wet tongues sought his hiding face till Darien finally grumbled, "Okay, okay," and pushed the nearest one away. 

Taking a breath he got a good look around him. Most of the dogs seemed to be watching him, tongues lolling out of their mouths, while the rest immediately began playing and wrestling in the snow. Darien drowsily wondered where all their energy came from. He felt like he'd been asleep for days. Not far from the truth there, he reminded himself, then carefully stood up.

He remembered the clearing, but nothing else he remembered seemed help him in figuring out which way to go next. "Just great," Darien grumbled out loud. The nearest dog barked. Darien looked at them, shivering slightly as his body began to adjust to the cold again. "You guys by chance wouldn't know where to go, would ya?"

The same dog barked in reply, then turned, heading into the trees. Instantly the entire pack ceased whatever they'd been doing and took off into the trees after the first. "Hey wait up!" Darien called after them, trying to follow as quickly as his stiff joints would let him, but the dogs seemed more intent on running than on waiting and Darien, with only two legs and sore ones at that, quickly fell behind. Still, the trail was easy to follow in the freshly laid snow and Darien continued on, blindly hoping the dogs were leading him back the way he'd come. 

Claire growled with frustration and circled the table once again. It was no longer covered with the small equipment but was extravagantly covered with an entire lab set up.

Alex walked into the room in time to hear the quiet obscenities the Keeper was expressing. Raising an eyebrow Alex asked mildly, "Problem?"

Claire spun around, relief and anxiety playing across her face in an instant. "No. Did you find him?"

Shaking her head, Monroe unconsciously knocked a bit more snow off her boots. "It's slow moving with Chrysalis and Arnaud dogging us. I came back to check on things here," she said, then motioned to the table. "How's it going?"

"Fine, fine," Claire replied absently, biting on her lower lip, deep in thought.

Alex realized she wasn't going to get a straight answer from the Keeper unless she asked for it and bluntly stated, "So what's got you in a tiff?"

"I'm worried about the guys-" Claire began, but Monroe just waved that away.

"Other than that!"

"It's that..." Claire paused, giving Alex a sidelong look, then finally told her, "I'm grateful the Official thought to send up supplies. I really am! I wasn't sure how I was going to make some fresh counteragent, and with this... it should be ready by tomorrow. Only..." and once again she paused, looking as if she might be embarrassed by what she was about say. "The boxes they came in had fifty cents written on the outside, like boxes you'd find things in at a garage sale."

For a moment Alex just looked at the woman, then carefully told her, "Claire, I don't think the Official would sell your equipment."

"Wanna bet?" The Keeper replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm, but in the next instant she sighed and immediately apologized. "I'm sorry, I'm just a bit tense."

"We all are," Alex quickly agreed, then frowned as she saw Claire absently pick up and begin to eat one of the quickly disappearing oatmeal cookies. "How many of those have you had?"

Claire looked over from her minute study of the bubbling contraptions startled. "Oh, I don't know, six."

"Have you eaten anything else?"

The Keeper shook her head, "No, been too busy." She finished off the last bit and commented around the mouthful, "You know, I would never have expected you'd been a good cook, but these are quite tasty, Alex." But then quickly added as if realizing what she'd just said. "Not that I don't think you can cook, mind you."

Monroe smirked, trying to cover a huff of disbelief, but then replied nonchalantly, "It's the butterscotch." 

Claire looked at her in surprise. "As in the liquor?"

Alex shrugged. "It's my father's recipe." 

Just then Jim came running in out of breath. "Agent Monroe, we found Agent Fawkes' trail. The rest are following it, but you said to come tell you if-"

Alex interrupted him impatiently propelling him back towards the door before he could even fully get his breath back. "Come on, let's go!"

The Keeper took a step after them but stopped, looking back at her bubbling potions and sighed in frustration. 

Darien wasn't sure how long he'd walked, though he guessed it'd been a couple hours at least. Still, so far he hadn't come across anything or anyone, not even the dogs.

Shivering, he stuffed his hands further into his pockets and hunched his shoulders forward to conserve heat. For a tall and lanky person, that wasn't an easy thing to accomplish. After a while he spotted a broken stump and sank down onto its precarious edges. His legs ached more now than they had when he first woke. Sighing deeply from the release of pressure he bent to try and rub a bit more life into them. That's when he realized he wasn't alone anymore.

Slowly looking up, Darien met the gaze of the seven pigeons, the same seven pigeons he'd seen, when? The memory wouldn't fit exactly into place, but he didn't need it to know this wasn't right. Despite the protest of his feet, Darien stood up again and continued on the path, glancing over his shoulder from time to time as he walked.

The pigeons were flying from tree to tree behind him. They were definitely following him. It was just too creepy. Not knowing exactly why he felt so strongly about it, Darien knew he needed to get away from the creatures. The question was: how? 

Glancing at his tattoo he noted it was only just over half full. He hadn't done much quicksilvering since this whole trip began, but he also wasn't sure how soon he'd be able to get a shot of counteragent. Especially since he was currently lost in a forest full of terrorists. He made a grim face, and the peculiar thought that the pigeons were terrorists in disguise firmly planted itself in the forefront of his mind. "I've been hanging around Hobbes too much," he grumbled out loud, but the thought didn't want to go away and only reinforced his decision. He'd have to take the chance.

Making sure he was looking casual about it, Darien began to scoop up balls of snow as he walked. As soon as he had one in each pocket and one in each hand, Darien stopped walking. He took a breath, murmured, "Here goes," and turning sharply quickly picked out the cluster of pigeons. Then practically running straight for them, he began to throw his snowy ammunition. 

The birds scattered in a wild frenzy from the sudden attack, a couple nearly missing the assault of snow, but none went down. Darien hadn't really planned it that way, and at the moment of chaos had let the quicksilver flow. Now, he crouched hidden as he watched the birds circle.

A few of them cooed, and to Darien they sounded sincerely confused. He kept watching, hoping they'd leave soon before he used so much quicksilver he went red eyed. Gratefully, after a couple more sweeps around, the pigeons apparently decided he was gone and took off flying down the beaten path left by the dogs.

In a shower of flakes, Darien stood and once again checked the tell-all snake. He still had a day or so, but in his book, that wasn't much comfort. He regarded the path he'd been following with apprehension; it looked like that way was out for now, but he wasn't too sure about just walking off in any other direction either. 

Looking around he spotted a tree that looked doable and proceeded to climb it. After a series of carefully chosen expletives and strategic placement of feet, Darien reached the top. For miles it seemed all there was was forest, the mountain peaks looming ahead, but then off to the right he spotted a wooden peak. It could be anything, he realized, but at least it was man made. Deciding to take the chance, Darien carefully picked his way down, and keeping an eye out for the pigeons, headed in the direction of whatever it was he'd seen. If he was lucky it'd belong to the good guys.

Hobbes shivered; he knew his body temperature had dropped dramatically since he'd left, but he didn't care and kept going. He'd been listening in on the Canadian's conversations over the radio and from what they said the pigeons had found Fawkes but had lost him again. At least that meant he was alive, Bobby reassured himself.

"I doubt he'd continue following the dogs," Pierre's voice stated via the radio. 

A voice Bobby had marked as the leader of the team trying to track down his partner returned, "Where did the dogs come from anyway, eh?"

"Never mind. What's in the vicinity of Agent Fawkes' last known location?"

"There's the water tower. ETA 10 minutes."

Hobbes stopped in his tracks. He'd passed close to a water tower a while back and he knew he was getting close to the flying spies. Even as he listened to Pierre command his troops to head for the tower, Bobby was sprinting in its direction as well. 

Darien circled around the wooden structure, trying to keep an eye on everything at once and only succeeding in making himself dizzy in the effort. He didn't like walking out into the open, but he knew staying at the forest's edge would do him no good either. 

The wooden tower had turned out to be nothing more than a water tower, but to his luck, there didn't seem to be anyone there, and further more, there was a telephone booth half buried in a snow bank next to the ladder heading up. 

It took a bit for him to hand shovel the snow out of the way enough to get the door open, but once he did and had the phone in hand he suddenly realized he didn't know who to call. He wondered numbly if the Official would be able to do anything from San Diego, and had just started to dial the number anyway when the glass around him suddenly shattered into a million pieces.

Darien instinctually ducked, and when he turned around he saw several men in camouflage white walk out of the trees, all of them with guns pointed right at him. "Ah crap!" Darien murmured. He partially raised his hands to show surrender, but in the next moment let the quicksilver flow. 

There were several exclamations of surprise, but contrary to most, whom, when surprised held back in shock, these guys, let several guns go off in reaction. The sound, like a loud crack of thunder, reminded Darien far too much of an execution line up.

Later, with reflection, Darien would put it down to his ill-fated luck: if something bad were going to happen, it'd happen to him. Pain burned through his forearm, the force twisting and throwing him to the snow even as he bit out a sharp cry. The quicksilver shed as his concentration folded before the new invader to his body and he gripped with frozen hands at the wound, feeling the sticky blood pulse out between his fingers. 

Blinking back tears, Darien rolled slightly as the men surrounded him, their guns still trained. Then one man, regarding Darien with wide eyes, raised a radio to his mouth and stated, "Sir, we have him."

Bobby heard the announcement just as clear and wanted to yell with frustration, but he continued on to the water tower. If he got there fast enough maybe he could interrupt them and still save his partner. Yet when he did arrive, it was ten minutes too late, and the base of the tower was once again empty. 

He fell to his knees when he spotted the pool of red in the snow. Still, needing to be sure he felt a bit in his fingers, but there was no mistaking it was blood. "Crap!" Hobbes cursed harshly, fighting off the shivers as well as the dread that surged within him, but he gave up soon after and just let himself shiver. For several minutes he just stayed like that, staring at the blood with dull thoughts. He'd been so focused on just getting Fawkes it was hard to think about what to do next.

Numbly, he looked up at the sun. He didn't have a clue what time it was, and wondered idly if those crazy scientists had already begun their plans for Fawkes. Bobby shivered harder with the thought, and frowning, stubbornly pushed himself to his feet. He'd just have to bust his partner out of that wacko house! "Bobby Hobbes doesn't bail on his partner!" He bit out to no one in particular. 

Yet as he reached the edge of the clearing he realized he had to stop and leaning heavily against a tree tried to pull his breath through a suddenly tight chest. The cold that had set in hours before had taken full advantage of Bobby's small bout of depression and was finally forcing itself to be known. The world swam before him and he unconsciously slid down into the snow, instinctually curling into a fetal position as he did. "Fawkes," Hobbes murmured trying to get his thoughts to focus. It didn't seem to help, and a white fog settled on his mind.

Fawkes gulped nervously. They'd brought him to the hidden base in the side of the mountain, which he quickly discovered was really some insane secret science lab. And although they'd cleaned and wrapped his arm, they had stripped him of his normal clothes, giving him a pair of simple white cotton pants to wear instead, and chained him hand and foot. He was currently seated on a stool surrounded by way more odd machinery than he cared for.

He recognized Pierre and Rena who were directing the operation, but the eight scientists, who were prepping needles and swarming about him like a bunch of giddy school kids, quite frankly scared him! "Ah...you guys know what you're doing, right?" Darien asked, not even sure what was going to happen. Were these people interested in milking him or just taking the gland, cause either case he knew felt like hell but at least the one wasn't fatal. 

"Of course we're sure," One of them responded with an encouraging smile, then promptly stuck a needle in Darien's shoulder. "We're certified doctors, after all."

"Or is that certifiable?" Another of them stated, and to Darien's horror they all laughed at the joke.

"Don't worry Agent Fawkes, when you wake again you'll feel like a new man!" Another told him.

"Like many new men in fact!" Another stated and once again they all laughed. Darien made a small sound of distress. Then one of them said, "So the gland really makes you invisible? Oh, to see that!" At Those words they all regarded Darien with far too much excitement, even for mad scientists.

Pierre cleared his throat, and with a few guilty looks the scientists turned back to the task at hand, once again repeating to Darien that things would be fine, giving him the rest of the shots. 

All at once this felt far too familiar as the drug took its place, forcing every other thought to the back of his mind and submitting him to the numbing state of unconsciousness. The last time he'd had a series of shots that ended in knocking him out had also resulted in a month long coma and him waking with a beast inside his head. He couldn't stop himself from wondering if this time he'd wake at all. 

"Robert! Bobby come on, wake up already!"

Hobbes recognized the voice through the numbness, it helped to focus a few of his mixed thoughts and he cracked his eyes to see two females worriedly looking down at him. Neither of them the one he'd prefer right before his death, for he was sure he was going to die in this state. "Rach," he breathed out to the woman who'd been calling him. 

She sighed with deep relief but didn't relent in trying to shake him into movement. "Robert, come on, we need to go."

"Coming," he murmured automatically, but he already knew he couldn't move, it was taking the last of his energy just to talk to them. He could feel hands around him trying to coax him to his feet, but after a second they stopped, and Rachel tried again to get his attention, surprising him with the tears that glistened in her eyes. He didn't think he'd ever seen his sister cry and wanted to tell her that, but other thoughts kept demanding attention and it was getting too hard to focus on anything.

"Bobby, listen to me. You can't leave me, do you understand?"

Bobby only nodded, but the other thoughts, the more insistent thoughts protruded. "Fawkes."

Alex was quick to question in return, "Where's Fawkes? Do you know?"

"Too late," Bobby told them, his voice cracking with grief. He could feel it burning in him, as painful as the cold. 

"What do you mean?"

"Time," Bobby bit out, trying to get a clear message through, but the fog was sweeping his mind numb once more, and once again he felt like this was it, this was the end.

"What? The time? It's ten after noon." Alex responded frustrated with a quick glance at her watch.

Bobby only repeated, "Too late," and then the ocean of fog took over and he closed his eyes again, unable to respond further. 

Rachel shook him, getting no more response and bit out angrily, "No. Damn it! Bobby, come on!" 

"He's suffering from hypothermia," Alex said knowing they wouldn't have much time and put a hand on his pale face, but she pulled it back a second later and corrected herself. "No, he's burning up! We have to get him to the Keeper, quick."

Hobbes heard them and idly wondered what they were talking about, he was dying. They should just let him die and go get Fawkes back. He wanted to tell them that but found it impossible and after a few more minutes even those thoughts sunk into the abyss.

From the edge of the clearing, Arnaud and the five Chrysali watched and waited, making sure they didn't give their positions away prematurely. "Do we attack?" One asked calmly. This was the perfect time, while the Agency group were vulnerable and caring for their fallen agent, but Arnaud shook his head.

"No. I think not. They don't mean anything to us." They stayed there until all of the Agency personal had left, then carefully stepped out into the open. First examining the spot of snow saturated with blood, Arnaud then went over to the booth and stepped inside through the shattered panel. The phone also had a bullet through it and there was no doubt as to what had happened. 

One walked over, waving his men off to check the other sides of the tower, just to be sure. Arnaud stood in the booth looking deep in thought. It was actually just nice to be able to see the man, One thought to himself. He'd never admit it to anyone, but seeing Arnaud invisible all the time personally gave him the shivers. 

"It looks like your Canadian friends snatched Fawkes." One stated blandly when he realized Arnaud wasn't about to say anything.

"Yes," Arnaud drawled out still thinking. Then told One, "No doubt the Agency is going to try and get him back. We're just interested in what's inside the compound."

"If we wait till the Agency attacks them then we should be able to slip right in from the other side," One replied, picking up on Arnaud's train of thought.

De Fohn nodded, then smirked drolly. "Either tonight or tomorrow."

One looked at the busted phone. "And if Fawkes made a call out?"

Arnaud just waved it off. "Doesn't matter, no one can get here for a day anyway."

One called back his men and the group left, leaving the water tower in solitude once again.

...Ten Minutes Late  
Nine Dogs a Running  
Eight Wacky Scientists  
Seven Pigeons Watching  
Six Oatmeal Cookies  
Five Chrysali  
Four Balls of Snow  
Three Missing Disks  
Two Foreign Spies  
And Arnaud in a Telephone Booth


End file.
